How a woman can have one every time...GUARANTEED!

Smokey jane is APPALLED at how woman have been ignored sexually for centuries.
Did you know that women didn't even KNOW that they could have orgasms?
Appalling.
Well, folks...you DO you what this month represents.
Oh, not just April Fool's and the Russian New Year...
This month is...
WOMEN COME FIRST month.
(applause)
This is the funnest month for both men and women alike.
This is the month where every woman, every day this month MUST have an orgasm.
( Skip a few days for emergency or recovery time)

IMPORTANT FACTS ON HOW TO MAKE A WOMAN HAVE AN ORGASM.
 1. ( Get out your notepads..) A woman's whole body needs attention...whether it be from long, passionate kissing to toe-sucking to back-rubbing to thigh massaging to...(other things)

2. When orally pleasing a woman, treat her whole area from her clitoris to the end of her vagina like a triple-stack ice cream cone. Suck on her clitoris GENTLY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD until she instructs you that it's okay to proceed to vaccum the color from it with your mouth.
 A. Full, flat tongue
 B. Slow licks
 C. Occasional *lip-blows against the clit for extra drama.
      * Holding teeth closed, blow through closed lips producing a vibrating motion like the sound of a motor.

3. ( Using a dildo or a real penis)
 Do not insert phallus into vagina until the following three things happen...
  A. Her juices are clearly reaching her thighs with anticipation.
  B. Her clitoris is large, ripe and sensitive to the touch.
  C. She lets you up for air.

Imagine a world, where the woman came first at all times.
Imagine the nag-free life a husband can have if he takes the time out to make his wife's toes curl up before breakfast in the morning.
Imagine the ass-whoopins a child will skip because his mama wasn't overangry at the fact that he forgot to load the dishwasher last night.
Imagine the wars that will be prevented because the president didn't feel inadaquate for not being able to please his wife last night.

If everyone takes the time out to give a woman a proper orgasm everyday for a month, the energy of happiness will fill the air and the world will indeed begin to change for the better.

Smokey Jane Guarantees it.

The Chain-Email Assassination Attempt..

Smokey jane says "Stop it!"

Aren't you tired of checking your email for important messages...and then recieving a message sorta like this:

"I love you and I wish you happiness all the days of your life!
Send this to nine people or you will lose a loved one."

Don't they understand ( with their dumb-assedness) that this is a CURSE that they are sending?

People of the internet..STOP IT!

Chain emails are like pyramid schemes...Nobody wants to be bothered with bothering other people...let alone be bothered with your bullshit.

Send this to nine people or you be forced to breath air out of your lungs for the rest of your life.

S.J.

The Mystery of the Adam's Apple Disappearance & the Strap-On Dildo...

Smokey Jane loves the gays.
Don't get Smokey Jane wrong.
Just BE gay.
Don't make me guess...

Look...Smokey Jane knows you gotta be yourself, young Androgynous One...what with your unisex attire and gender-confusing hairstyle.
You even drink your coffee black..with no indication of a penis OR a vagina hiding betwix those standard-issue denim shorts.
How many colors of those Chuck Taylor's do you have...?
Please tell me pink or something feminine so that I can decide on which gender I can talk shit about behind the other gender's back.
I don't mean to be shallow...I just need to inform the young lady your flirting with as of whether she knows that she is a lesbian or not...because I'm sure she wouldn't want to be surprised in the bedroom after a couple of drinks and a couple of dates.

Do you sit like that because of your large testicles, or because of the chaffing of your lips as it grazes across the balled-up gym socked in your men's briefs.

Lesbians, I can't tell you enough how beautiful you are as WOMEN.
You are NOT a man...and that is perfectly okay with a lot of lesbians who aren't looking to be with men.
They're looking to be with WOMEN.

Can anybody explain this to me?

Why do I have an issue with not being able to tell the difference?
Because Smokey Jane must know EVERYTHING.
That's why.

S.J.

Stealing the Internet Without Customer Initiation.

Welcome 2 http://www.smokeyjane.com/ ,junkdogs!

Smokey Jane is nobody's bitch...oh no!
This mouthpiece is bound to fit a nicely manicured foot within its warm walls sooner or later...so it might as well be sooner.
I am an avid WIFI snatcher and for good reason.
Many coffee shops and swanky grocery stores offer me the satisfaction of pleasuring my kleptomaniac clitoris by offering unlimited bandwidth for my many downloads and large file distribution that I wouldn't be able to bear on my own cable-package plan.
For this, I salute you...
Kroger..
Mickey D's (I have graduated from real estate school within your lobbies..Thank you.)
and that grocery store in Colorado off Sheridan Road...hmmm..
I'll come up with the name..damn, I hate to forget my enablers...

S.J.

Am I the April fool?

There's only one logical reason why a person in his or her "right" mind who knows how being broke feels like, would actually CHOOSE to be this way day after day.

Idiocy.

There's no reason why anyone who knows what being broke feels like, would actually CHOOSE to remain this way if they aren't clinically/ mentally touched by a different ungloved hand.

For the past few tears I used to live broke...

Always wondering where our next meal was coming from...
Always borrowing money from people...
Always praying for GOD to get me out of the hole..

Its all an illusion of the mind.

Just like everything else.
Think about that.
I did.

I am my foot, I am the sun.

DAMN, I took a long-ass time to blog back after a tremendously long transitional period in my life.

Honey, I have gone through one spectrum of the industry to the other in a matter of weeks...lemme tell ya!

And as I carve faux Satanic symbols into the barsoap of life while I rest my tired bum upon the golden throne of the future, it  never ceases to amaze me as to how I manage to manifest so many memorable moments in this phenomenal existence.... due to the many perceptions that I have stashed away amongst the abundant variety of skeletons in my closet.

Hey, fuck you if you don't like to play in left field once in a while!

                                                            
FOR, my name is Smokey Jane!

No disrespect if you feel as if I have offended you.

No disrespect if you feel as if I have yet to impress you to the point of mentally masterbation to my image.

That comes naturally.

In the meantime, I sit here in this lawn chair shivering outside in the cold afternoon sun.

These fleece pants may be fraying all over the carpets, but they are making my legs so comfortable in this winter air.

Time to masterbate a little bit, in a desperate attempt to warm myself up...or at least thwart my mind from thinking about those poor skiers that get stranded up in the mountains and their noses turn black from frostbite.

It's pretty late in the afternoon anyways.

The sun is leaving a shadow-casting upon everything now.

Nobody can see me smoke this joint on this lawnchair with my hand shoved elbow-deep within the comfort of these awesome fucking pants. 

 Everyone should be inside already, taking their home-from-work shits or making din-din for the kiddies by now.

Nobody in their right mind would be out here at this kind of temperature besides me anyways.

And, it's for the best that I sit outside regardless, for in my possession is a facsinating sort of sticky-icky that I managed to acquire from a traveling Central American metal band. 

This particular sticky-icky, when released from it's confines, it' manages to stinks up the house with such a thick and heavy aroma of the rainforest that only an outdoor consuming would be understandably tolerated.

Smokey Jane consumes.

 I'm listening to Alan Watts and I pray to the gods of Illusion for his milky British accent to send me to another place inside of my mind.

A place that will take me far, far away in this magical lawn chair and occupy my mind with wonderful things to see and do so I won't have to think about those precious hash browns I placed in the oven a while ago to combat my munchies within it's shapely, starchy potatoey goodness baked to an ever-so-golden brown in the oven.

About six minutes left.

I got my handful of stolen McDonald's ketchup packets gripped tight in my fleece pants pocket as I utilize them externally against my hyper clitoris through the soft fabric.

 Shaking with anticipation and carnal delight, I feel like an old priest watching the schoolboys rough-house in the guzzling water of an open fire hydrant on a hot summer day when it comes to waiting for my munchies.

Especially when your stoned out of your mind.

Your in the moment and time ceases to exist for a little while.

Isn't that right?

Feel it as that little drop of happiness touches your spinal cord sending waves of satisfaction and assurance that everything that exists is so fucking wonderful.

So, I snatch my hands out of my pants and fetch a few emergency candles from underneath the kitchen sink and attempt to light them outside to pay homage to existence before the sun went down.

The fucking candles wouldn't stay lit, so I happened to come across some fireworks that supposedly must have been saved for some special occasion that I decided that THIS would become.

You only live once in THIS lifetime!

RIGHT?

I lit those sons-of-bitches right there in that basement and carried them up the stairs and  out the door into the backyard of our beloved suburbian home.

BOOM!

SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BOOM!

That was the last thing that I heard before I opened my eyes in front of a lot of strange and unfamilar faces...

Oh, wait...

Wait a sec...I recognize one of them now...

What the....!

I believe that one is.....Jesus?

Yep!!

 That one's Jesus, alright!

Oh, there's two of them!

A black one and a white one!

Who'dda thought!

And theres another one who looks like Oprah in schoolteacher drag...

Damn, she sure is showing some major hard-nipple through her fluffy pink sweater.

My masculine side begins to habitually stroke what looks like an erect 16 inch Carolina-blue penis coming out of my body.

Smurf-tastic!.

Immediately, I stroke to ejaculation while surrounded by an entourage of people whom I know aren't real according to the fact that at least two of them are Jesus.

I fall asleep to the sound of police sirens in a mist of fog and skin-numbing icy-hotness that  only excites the pure bliss inside of my soul that I must express through shouts of pleasure and showtunes of the Disco Era.

Hands all over my body.

A prickly blanket of warmth covers me as a record plays backwards in my subconcious.

The words seem to say...

MAKE LOVE to EVERYONE
EVERYONE loves EVERYONE.

Let's LOVE EVERYONE FOREVER

...a mouthful of compressed oxygen to the lungs, 

....an adrenaline shot to the heart...

 ...and a five thousand dollar ambulance trip later...

I am here to tell the tale of happiness.

Is there such a thing as too much happiness?

If it is...we sure do try to stop it with our negative thinking don't we?

Yes, sir.

That is why we create conflict for ourselves.

It's only natural.

That's why there exists such a phrase as..

"too much"

Trust me, it's a true statement.

For some people...

But, for me....

It doesn't matter that we had to put the house up on a $150,000 bail so I can enjoy these few weeks of fresh air and whatever freedom that I have left.

 It doesn't matter about the counts of public nudity, arson and rape charges I'll be facing next month and the fact that I'll be giving birth to twins next summer due to something I must of gotten myself into that day, which is still an experience that I still can't quite remember.

It doesn't matter about the fact that the home I burned down had a lapse in the insurance premium and now we live in a tent on the grounds of the charred remains of our precious memories while recovering from a missing ring and middle finger that happened to be blown off mysteriously.... perhaps due to a explosive device of some sort. 

No, Ma'am!

What matters is that life is great!

And I intend to look UP from now on!

Love,

 Smokey Jane.

(P.S. Just kidding about the pregnancy.)

If you don't mind...It won't MATTER..

This is Smokey Jane here

 on this fine after-Thanksgiving fiasco!

I'm here to give THANKS to all the good things happening my life AND in yours.

Not that I honestly give a shit about a fucked-up holiday of historical debauchery formulated into a traditional celebration of gluttony and hidden territorial barbarianism.

No, sir...

What I'm talking about can be celebrated all year round.

Wanna know what it is, boys and girls?

Here's a hint...

Did you know that being grateful is the BEST thing you could EVER do ANYTIME ANYWHERE?!?

For serious....

Why it only must be publicized once an illusuionary year?

My Goodness, I watch the friggin' news and what do I see?

I'll tell ya......It sho ain't the sale at the local Piggly Wiggly anymore.

How can I know that when I watch the news and pay attention to all the negative things going on in life..that I'm not helping the negative EXPAND?

It sure doesn't make me very pleased to watch yet another old lady get raped in her own home or some reckless PTSD victim beat their kids to death with the family cat.

It doesn't please me to see that shit on television after coming home from driving two hours in traffic.

Why wouldn't you choose to feel happy by watching or listening to something happy.

I don't know...maybe I'm crazier than I claim to be.

But, doesn't even the slightest amount of attention to something negative, make it THAT much more REAL?

You take in the energy of something not needed at the time.

and it slowly takes over your power of harmony.

Your strive for peace.

We are all connected.

But,we can only pay attention to one life at a time.

So pay attention to your life and stop living someone elses...

Do me THAT favor.

Be grateful for the good shit.

Have you ever heard of this expression..?

"Mind over matter, if you don't mind it, it won't matter"

HAVE YOU?

Of COURSE you have, Silly!

If I pay attention to people treating me badly, I give THEM my power...my attention.

And does anyone who makes you feel any less than your naturally happy state DESERVE your power?

HELL-to-the- NO!

So, my advice?

Be grateful for all the AWESOMENESS happening in your life!

And more will come..

I promise.

Now, get the fuck outta my face and go throw a frisbee or something...

Love,

Smokey Jane

Keep your Facebook armor on!

Hello and Happy Turkey-Basting Day.
Smokey Jane here.

I feel like an idiot because I didn't even re-up my weed stash before these fake-ass holidays.
I don't even deserve to call myself Smokey Jane right now.

My bong is as empty as a Christian stripclub.


I stayed up all night handling bizz..going back and forth on FaceBook during my breaks.

I found out that some of the people I've added on Facebook don't even deserve to be on my page!

I call myself trying to be nice..
( YOU know what I mean!)

There are times I'm in a good-ass mood and I go on Facebook and read the depressing shit people put on there...they can really blow a high, lemme tell ya!

You got your cryers, your complainers, your haters...

You got people who wanna push ebay shit on your wall.
( Who all here is hella tired of looking at those stupid-ass sneaker heels! I DON"T WANT THEM!)


You have people who just have nothing else better to do other than post their life bit by bit.
(I'm eating a sandwich right now..Bacon and cheese....It's good.)

Delete their posts if you don't wanna delete them as friends..they will never know!
Forgive them, Lord..they know not what the hell they're doing to my buzz.
Keep your armor on, Facebookers.

Let no one take your focus...
Unless you WANT to know what flavor soda Michelle is drinking today.

Happy Puffing!

Love,
Smokey Jane!

I can do bad AND good all by myself...asshole!

Smokey Jane here!
I had a conversation with a dude the other day about chivalry.
(God, I hope I'm spelling that right. Probubly not because it hasn't been used in a while!)

Anyways, it seems as if some men are upset by the fact that woman are starting to make more money than them.

They think we are getting uppitty in the fact that now we have more power in the workplace...more say-so in corporate America.

They feel that they don't have to pursue a woman....or open the door for her for that matter.

They feel that they shouldn't have to pay for the date.

I say "Shut the fuck up and stop being so fucking insecure."

I can recall a while back when women couldn't even VOTE!

We stayed in the house and cooked, cleaned, raised kids and got a good conjugal raping every night with no orgasm in sight.......all without pay.

That's cold.

We were your property, dudes.

Second-class citizens.
And you loved that shit..didn't you?

Don't lie..

The pussy was yours for the taking.
Any pussy you desired and all you had to do was ask her owner and hand off a few acres of land...maybe some prize-winning livestock.



Now that we have established ourselves as equals...you have a problem with it...doncha?

You hate those Tyler Perry movies of women empowerment...doncha?

As a matter of fact, most American men would rather have a black man become president than a woman ANYDAY, wouldn't they?

You don't have to lie to me...I already know.
So all that insecurity has finally come to light, hasn't it?

So you say to WOMAN, Bringer of Life"You open your OWN door, BITCH!"

 And we wonder why more lesbians exist today more than any other era.

To all you sexist sons-of-bitches...
( Some dudes are cool..I'm just talking to the ignorant pricks here..)

We are all equal.

But differently equal.

You have the brawn that we need.
We have the brains that you need.
You can open a jar of pickles and play in the NFL.
We can suck a mean dick and have your children.

We feel like we deserve to be treated like a woman deserves to be treated.

 We are princesses and we always WILL be.

That's what our Daddy taught us and that is what we will always think.

If you can treat us better that our Daddy, your IN THERE! (pun intended)

So now that you know the secret..just play the game...You like football don't you?

Just because we can do this by ourselves, that doesn't mean we WANT to!

Unless you like the idea of being a sour old man with cobwebs on your penis.
Good Night!

Smokey Jane....2010