I was born in the wagon of a traveling show, my mama used to dance for the money they’d throw, Papa would do whatever he could …

Wait. That’s not me, that’s Cher. Apparently people have been getting the two of us confused for so long that now even I’m starting to do it. I guess I’m just going to have to snap out of it! (See what I did there? Yeah, I’m clever like that. And if you don’t see it I suggest you watch Moonstruck. Great movie, helps you get jokes.)

I write as The Baroness Buttercup for a number of reasons: I hate to waste a good pseudonym (I was Urethra Franklin on my last blog. Loved that name, hated giving it up), *sigh* hiding from my fucking stalker (see my last blog link), it feels a little bit like role-play and who doesn’t like role-play?, slipping into a different skin helps get my imagination and creative juices flowing, what I write is more important to me than having people knowing who I am and (most importantly) avoiding at all costs my parents somehow stumbling onto my blog.

I know, I know … what, you may ask, are the chances two people in their seventies who, no matter how many times I tell them I just need the whatever.com or .org or .net part of a URL to help them find something on a website still insist on starting with “http…”, will accidentally land here? Well, I didn’t think the odds of them running across my extensive collection of porn or arsenal of sex toys a freakishly high number of times were very good either, but I’ve had to hear things like, “Your father wants to know what to do with the steamer trunk full of pornography,” and “For God sake! How many dildos does one person need?” far too often to be willing to take the risk.

So that’s a bit about me. If there’s anything else you want to know, like where Buttercup lives is or what my father did with the steamer trunk full of pornography or just how many dildos one person needs, leave a comment and I’ll get back to you.

Thanks for stopping by and I hope you’ll be back.


  1. Dear Baroness Buttercup,

    My name is Ashlee. I’m co-founder of the Youshare Project, with the mission to connect people around the world through true, personal stories. I recently stumbled across your blog and read through several of your posts. I love your writing style, and the personal topics you write about. I’m wondering if you might consider sharing a story with our project?

    If this sounds interesting to you, I would love to email you directly with more information. You have my email address and website. I hope to hear from you soon.




  2. It is I, your former roomie….who couldnt find the “Buttercup” card you gave me until I used that orange purse I had at the birthday party that night again. Alas, I too have started a blog but yours is so much better- I would expect nothing less from the woman I used to refer to as my Owl of Wisdom (hoo). Hope you are doing well and so glad to see that your blog, like your life, is full of WHIMSY!



    1. Thank you! I’m honored that you’d put me on your list. And speaking of lists, I just nominated you for a Liebster Award. It would seem the Mutual Admiration Society has officially inducted its first two members …



  3. Love the bio. And, the chances of your parents finding you are greater than you think. I inadvertently found my teen daughter’s anonymous blog via Twitter. I was looking at her Tweets and it recommended her blog Twitter account as one to follow. I thought I recognized the photo/name and read a post. Sure enough, it was her. Maybe Twitter linked them because of their same IP address? Who knows. Long story short – stick with the pseudonym! And, whatever did happen to the steamer trunk???



    1. Fortunately I’ve recently come out to my parents as a blogger and we’ve reached an understanding that they won’t go searching for my blog. Instead, I’ll send them to edited versions of posts that can be altered and still make sense. And I’m not sure, but I think they donated the trunk and it’s contents to a home for the pornographically challenged.



        1. No, please add me, I’d be honored! I think I finally gave Creepy McStalkington the slip … unless, of course, she’s assumed an eighth identity and you are actually her. In which case all I can say is Damn! You’re a crafty little devil … well played!



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