Reality Wicca:

There's some dumbass reality show on my TV right now with a Wiccan on it. A Wiccan who doesn't know the difference between a pentagram and a pentacle.

One of the other crusty twats on this show is paranoid that she hexed her, and she's trying to explain that she doesn't believe in that type of Witchcraft.

I have people ask me a lot whether or not I've hexed them and 99% of the time, I haven't because they're not worth the effort, but I never tell then that. I never come right out and tell them that I've hexed them, but I will allude to it.

People tend to be their own worst enemies and I'm not above taking advantage of their paranoia.

If I actually hex someone, I don't tell them about it. I will adamantly deny hexing them if they ask. I never threaten someone with a hex, unless I have zero intention of hexing them, in which case I'll just mumble some vague mumbojumbo at them in order to exploit their fears.

I've had a lot of people tell me that they were going to hex me, or bind me, and I never bother to retaliate against them. I don't have to.

What people don't seem to understand is that this mortal shell of mine is not mine alone. My mind, body and soul are the playground of a Higher Power who's very territorial when it comes to my suffering.

Pain is my homage to her and my flesh is her altar.

If someone is dumb enough to trespass on her property and blaspheme against her temple, then they do so at their own peril.

This isn't about protection. Or keeping me safe. I'm not so arrogant to think that my Lady is some type of guardian angel.

No, she just hates to share her toys.