https://filedn.com/leUvAXMlplkfqUzizuGHsip/ass%20worship%20v14.mp4
Ass Worship – Femdom Clip, Short Though (≈ 1 Min)
Good evening! 😊
The Joker says, “I’m a man of my word.”
I say, “I’m a girl of principle.”
Patreon doesn’t sit well with me. It’s not just the janky, clunky platform that pi$$es me off—it’s the $60 I have to pay for a feature that comes free with Substack.
When I see something that’s a blatant rip-off, I hesitate to be the fool who buys it. But Stripe and its payment service not recognizing Th. (my country) is making me feel like I’m in a for¢ed marriage with Patreon.
Here I am, wasting another 30 minutes trying to find an alternative that doesn’t use Stripe. I hate monopolies. I also hate PɐyPɐl—they shut me down before simply for being Thai. I sh*t you not. I used it once during COVID, and the next day, poof.
Honestly, I don’t fully blame original Jaa for doing what she did to escape and live abroad at any cost. Ambition has its limits here. Sometimes, you just have to leave to live under a normal set of rules.
For example, take this from ChatGPT for context:
*”Ghost is a popular open-source content management system (CMS) designed for professional publishing, offering features like memberships and subscriptions. By default, Ghost natively supports Stripe as its primary payment processor. However, since Stripe’s services are limited in Thailand, this poses a challenge for your situation.
While Ghost doesn’t natively integrate with other payment processors, it’s possible to manually integrate providers like PayPal, Paddle, or Lemon Squeezy using Ghost’s API and webhooks. This requires additional configuration, especially for managing recurring payments.”*
What the hell is a Ghost API? Or a webhook? Do I want to spend another 2–3 days translating tech jargon just to figure that out? Hard pass.
Dreams and Passports
I have big dreams that float around my head endlessly. If I lived anywhere other than here—or didn’t face a sideways or downward hop between countries (like moving to Laos)—I could actually chase them.
I’ve realized the most valuable thing in the world isn’t gold, money, or wealth—it’s a world-class passport. That’s what Jaa must have realized too.
My Dumbest Moment Today
I went to my secret art/coffee shop—a little slice of heaven—to show how I make my stories. I wanted to turn the idea into my first great YouTube video because, seriously, not many people go to the lengths I’ve gone to communicate on a foreigner’s level.
I sat down, started jotting digital notes in Thai, and spoke them out like I was giving a TED Talk. Then it hit me: I forgot to bring a secondary device to record myself. Normally, I’d use my iPad, but I rode my bike and didn’t want to carry something heavy. So, yeah. Dumb move.
Haloperidol Detox Chronicles
Here’s where I’m at:
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My brain is racing at 1,000 km/hour.
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I feel every second pass. Time is speeding up.
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My perception is redlining like a racecar.
I hope this tapers off soon. But this week without Haloperidol has been hell. I know stressful situations are dangerous for me right now—it’s like Bruce Banner trying to contain The Hulk.
If I started doing femdom sessions again, I think it would trigger the same stressors that broke me in 2023. I’m acutely aware that conditions for a mental breakdown are present, and I don’t want to go back there.
I need a hug. Like, desperately.
I know, a Mistress asking for a hug? But that’s where I’m at. Whether from family or long-term subs who became friends, I feel like I’m walking a lonely path. My brain is overflowing with all the substances that Haloperidol blocked for months, and it’s overwhelming.
A Note About Smells
Oh, and stress? It’s making my body smell awful. Like skunk-level awful (not that I know what a skunk smells like, but I’ve seen Pepe Le Pew). If I sat on your face, you’d tap out in five seconds flat.
In Conclusion
I’m trying to find calm: meditating, writing poetry, shutting out the lights. But it’s tough. My heart is racing at 100 bpm, and I’m doing nothing.
I need to laugh, so here’s a joke:
“Who are you, and how did you get in here?”
“A locksmith… and a locksmith.”
That’s me right now: John Candy at the end of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, except there’s no Steve Martin inviting me home for Thanksgiving.
I’m signing off to meditate or maybe break out the emergency edible. Here’s hoping tomorrow brings a bit of normalcy.
