Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Can Same-Sex Couples Get a Divorce in Tennessee?

The Associated Press reports that an Indiana court has refused to grant a divorce to a same-sex married couple.  In this case, the couple had married in Canada and eventually moved to South Bend, Indiana, where they are now seeking a divorce.  The Indiana court is refusing to hear the case because the marriage is illegal under Indiana law.

What about Tennessee, could a same-sex married couple be divorced here?

Divorce is a remedy that may be awarded by a court.  Tennessee uses a fault-based system for dissolving a marriage.  This means that in order to be awarded a divorce, you must prove to the court that either your spouse has acted in a way that gives you adequate grounds for divorce, or that irreconcilable differences have arisen between the parties.

Either way, the award of a divorce is only appropriate if a marriage had actually existed between the parties.  The question is then, would this couple’s marriage be valid in Tennessee?  After a much publicized battle and vote, our state constitution was amended to read:

The historical institution and legal contract solemnizing the relationship of one (1) man and one (1) woman shall be the only legally recognized marital contract in this state. Any policy or law or judicial interpretation, purporting to define marriage as anything other than the historical institution and legal contract between one (1) man and one (1) woman, is contrary to the public policy of this state and shall be void and unenforceable in Tennessee. If another state or foreign jurisdiction issues a license for persons to marry and if such marriage is prohibited in this state by the provisions of this section, then the marriage shall be void and unenforceable in this state.

It may seem unfair, but since Tennessee cannot recognize a same-sex marriage, the courts cannot award a judgment of divorce to these couples.  This is exactly the same situation as in Indiana.

Vera Vision—Masquerade Ballin’, Pt 1.

When Tawny’s husband mentioned he wanted to spice up their sex life, she didn’t think an orgy was what he had in mind.

It was a Friday night. The sky was clear and if one tried hard enough, they could see all the constellations. Tawny was stuck working on a major deadline for her company and was trying her hardest to finish it so she can at least have a late dinner. Completing the project an hour later, Tawny arrived home from a long day at work. She was exhausted, hungry and didn’t have any plans other than to veg out on her sofa, catching up with her shows. However, her husband, Oleg, had other plans. He left a big wrapped box at the doorstep with just a tiny note attached: Put this on and meet me at 2650 Market Street.
Keep your mind open and your options available.

Tawny quickly unwrapped the box and saw a dress that left little to the imagination. A slinky black number that was low-cut and high-cut up her thighs. Suddenly, Tawny was no longer tired and exhausted but quite curious as to what Oleg had in store for her. She assumed it was going to be a nightclub based on the dress. Shaking her head and muttering how tired she was to be out dancing, Tawny followed Oleg’s instructions and put the dress on. She freshened up her look by adding a bit of makeup and putting her long hair in a bun. Then she was off to her unknown destination.

Carefully following the GPS guide, Tawny pulled up to a palatial estate. She double-checked to see if she had the correct address. Sure enough, it was. As she pulled up to the gated entrance, the gates automatically opened. Still unsure, Tawny carefully drove her Corolla inside, alert of any suspicious activity. She followed the curve to the front of the mansion and was in awe. Everything she had read in books and seen in magazines was right before her very eyes. And Tawny felt she was completely out of place. What was a city girl like her doing at a private residence? Who did Oleg know at that place?

All questions were answered when she saw her husband walk out of the front doors, smiling. He was wearing a business suit with an open collar. Clearly, he knew something she didn’t. Tawny turned off the car and greeted him, questioning who he knew and why he was there. Oleg simply shrugged off Tawny’s questions and led her inside. If Tawny thought the mansion was gorgeous on the outside, nothing compared to how it looked on the inside. 17th century art work and antique furniture adorned the mansion. Exquisite lighting was provided by various chandeliers every few feet. The wall paint color was shiny dulce de leche, making the glamour stand out even more. It was fit for royalty. It was fit for the very rich. It was fit for people who were not Tawny and Oleg.

Oleg grabbed two masks and put them on him and Tawny. Once again, Tawny gave him a puzzled look but Oleg just brushed her off. He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to his wife, who quickly downed hers. Oleg smiled and gave his glass to Tawny. He rubbed her back and kissed her temple, silently assuring her to trust him. Tawny let out a sigh and finally relaxed. She still didn’t know what the hell was going on but was willing to try to enjoy her night. Oleg grabbed her hand and led her through the mansion. Walking through the halls, the familiar noises of moaning and screaming indicated there was more to the masquerade ball than what met her eye. She passed by a room and saw a threesome. She passed by another one and saw two women 69′ing each other with a crowd of men watching. She passed through several more rooms with similar scenes and situations. It didn’t take long for Tawny to realize why she was dressed sexily and the mask on her face.

She was going to get fucked that night. It was just a matter by whom….

*Above model is Jessica Drue; photography is by model mayhem/toxic imaging*

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Alice's New Toy

An idea that came from a silly end to some fun roleplay. My first time writing something like this.

————————-

Aliciena ran quickly through the Under City, her ink and blood stained robes flapping ridiculously around her frail body. Her dark purple coloured hair streamed behind her and in her thin arms she carried a small cloth wrapped bundle that she clung to desperately. The small Forsaken woman shoved her way through the crowds of merchants, military, and civilians only slowing as she reached her destination: the Apothecarium. She paused only briefly, a small unsure frown on her lips, before she slipped down a narrow side passage.

Most only saw the upper levels of the Apothecarium where the most mundane work was done, including the construction of the Abominations. But Aliciena had been here before and asked enough questions to know that there was much more. She walked carefully down the dimly lit passage, cautiously stepping down a long set of steep stairs. At the bottom was the real realm of the apothecaries, where their most important or most personal experiments took place. Though as Aliciena reached the dark, fairly small room at the bottom, she found it empty. She sighed quietly and turned to leave as another Forsaken woman came out of a side room.

“Excuse me, do you need something?” the apothecary asked.

Aliciena turned and smiled in relief. She walked closer to the new comer, letting her gaze wander openly over her. She was taller than Aliciena by at least a head, not that it was an amazing feat, and clad in the black robes of her profession. They hid most of her body, but even with the significant covering, it was easy to tell she was thicker built than most Forsaken women and had a larger chest. Aliciena caught herself staring and quickly jerked her gaze up. The apothecary’s face was pretty, despite the prominent hole in her left cheek that allowed anyone to see her tongue and teeth move as she spoke. Her hair was short and stood up messily, its colour a strange pale green that may have been blond in life.

“Yes, I do,” Aliciena said in her soft voice, adopting her sweetest smile as she stepped up in front of the other, “Do you do…aug…augmen…”

“Augmentations?” the apothecary offered helpfully.

“That! Do you?”

“Usually Apothecary Vordin does that, but I can as well. What do you wish to have augmented?” the apothecary questioned. Her gaze began to wander over Aliciena’s face and body, eventually stopping on her nearly flat chest. “Let me guess…breasts?”

“No! I like my tits just fine, thank you!” Aliciena said with a huff, drawing her arms and the package she held up over her chest self consciously.

“To each their own, I guess. Come this way,” the apothecary said with a shrug, turning to lead the way into another room, “I’m Apothecary Gerhnt, but you can call me Cara.”

“I’m Aliciena…but Alice is fine too.”

The pair walked a ways into the depths of the Apothecarium, following another set of stairs down until they finally ended in a small room. Cara closed and bolted a heavy iron bound door behind them before motioning Alice toward a low wooden table in the centre of the room. Opposite the two was a large mirror that covered nearly the entire wall and Aliciena caught herself staring vainly as she moved to sit on the table. She adjusted her long hair, pushing it back away from her cute round face, the pale white flesh marred only by a few small bone spurs that she had carefully filed down. Her yellowish eyes were heavily lidded, giving her a sleepy, bemused look. She set her bundle down on the table and turned to the side, cupping her breasts with a soft sigh. Even in her small hands, they barely made a handful.

“Rethinking the breast augments?” Cara asked with a smirk.

“No, they’re fine,” Alice said shyly, dropping her hands.

“As long as you like them, they are,” the apothecary said soothingly, “So, what are we augmenting today?”

“It is a little embarrassing,” Aliciena said quietly, dropping her gaze.

“I’ve heard all kinds of strange requests, dear, you can’t shock me.”

With an unsure smile, Alice reached over and pulled the cloth wrapping off her bundle. Cara simply gasped in surprise before leaning closer to inspect the item. It was a small glass jar that had been sealed tightly. Within was a penis that had clearly been taken from its original owner without consent before being frozen in crystal clear ice. The apothecary looked at the other woman and back to the jar a few times before standing up straight.

“I…want it attached to me,” Alice explained quietly, “But only if we can think of a way to remove it and put it back on whenever I like.”

“Are you sure? This is a big deal, not something silly to do for a passing lover,” Cara said, stepping closer to Alice and touching her shoulder lightly.

Alice nodded quickly, smiling at the apothecary. “I’m sure. It is what I want.”

“Alright then,” Cara sighed softly, “Wait here. I need to go get a few things. Go ahead and take your clothes off.”

The apothecary turned and left the room quickly, leaving the door slightly ajar. Alice peered out into the hallway before she shrugged out of her robe, letting the material fall to the floor. She wore nothing underneath and slipped onto the table in the nude, stretching her legs out slightly. Glancing over at the mirror, she smirked and turned toward it. She spread her legs and leaned back on one hand, looking over her thin, fragile body with vain admiration. Her free hand ran over her chest lightly, soft fingertips coaxing her nipples into hard little nubs. Her breath came in soft little gasps as her hand moved down her body, stroking over her stomach before it slipped between her legs. Nimble fingers began stroking over the soft lips of her sex before she spread herself, revealing the delicate pale pink of her inner folds. She slide one finger along her entrance, dipping the tip just inside her before a loud cough from behind caused her to jump and turn around.

“I told you to remove your clothes, not starting masturbating all over my work table,” Cara scolded her with a frown. The apothecary closed and bolted the door again before she came to stand next to Alice, setting down a small work box and a heavy tome on the table.

Alice ducked her head in embarrassment and shifted to sit more demurely, kneeling on her heels with her thighs closed. Cara shot her another glare before she began unpacking her box, setting a few instruments on the table next to the book. A strange looking scribe’s pen and a bottle of bright green, glowing ink were the only things that Alice recognized. She started to reach for them but was rebuffed as the apothecary smacked her hand like a child’s. Finally, she opened the book to a marked page and took the jar, opening it with a grunt. As she did, the ice cracked and broke apart before turning into a mist which floated away.

“Neat trick,” Cara said with a faint smile that made Alice preen a little, “Alright, I need you to lay back while I work. And don’t move! I need to treat this…appendage first.”

Aliciena laid down on her back, her feet near the apothecary and her tools. She tilted her head slightly to watch as Cara reached into the jar, removing the flaccid member. She went to work with a number of her strangest tools, running the disembodied flesh through a number of instruments.

“What are you doing? You’re not going to damage it, are you? That was hard to come by!” Alice said in concern, doing her best to lay still.

“No, I’m not going to damage it. See…because this came from something that was alive, that means it can quickly rot. So, before we can do anything with it, we have to preserve it like we do with the abominations and our other constructs. It will still rot, but at the same pace as the rest of us. You’ll get a good many years of use out of it this way.”

“Oh good. That’s very good,” Alice said with relief, laying back calmly and closing her eyes.

“Mhm. You said it was hard to come by…where exactly did you get this?”

“Well, my Mistress had to kill a man. So we tricked him into fucking me so we could do it in private. And his cock…mm…it was huge. Fantastic,” Alice said with a wistful sigh before smiling shyly, “Well…I just didn’t want to see it go to waste, so…I took it.”

“I…see. You’re a peculiar woman, Alice,” Cara told her, shaking her head, “Strange though…usually its the Mistress who comes to get something like this. To be more dominant, you see. Right, well…now I need you to stay perfectly still so I don’t ruin this.”

Alice simply nodded, keeping her eyes closed. Setting aside the preserved member, Cara opened the bottle of ink and dipped her pen into it. She placed on hand on Alice’s stomach, causing the girl to jump slightly before the soft pressure forced her to stay still. The tip of the pen began to move slowly over Aliciena’s naval, leaving trails of bright green ink that began to burn their way into the flesh. The Forsaken began to whimper beneath the painful touch but stayed impossibly still, not wanting to throw the apothecary off. Cara wrote into her flesh for an excruciatingly long time, burning small neat runes into the pale flesh of the girl. The runes were arranged in three careful rings radiating out from Alice’s naval, the green ink vanishing soon after each was written. Finally, Cara drew back and smiled, brushing a gentle hand over her stomach.

“Very good. You can sit up now. That’s all for you.”

The Forsaken sat up slowly, letting out a shaky breath as she reached down to caress her stomach. There were no marks of any sort but a small amount of pain still lingered just under the skin. Cara had already moved on to the next step of the process. With the same pen and ink, she began to write rings of similar runes near the base of the member in her hands. They circled around the shaft in three small rings.

Alice scooted closer to the apothecary, watching with quiet interest as Cara worked. She was meticulous in her work and paid no attention to the other. When the runes were complete, she set aside the pen and began to work with more instruments that Alice could not recognize. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, waiting patiently. Just as the Forsaken girl felt as though she’d fall asleep from boredom, the apothecary set aside her tools.

“I’m done,” Cara said almost breathlessly, looking at Alice, “It was a good bit of work…but it should function like you want.”

Breaking into a broad grin, Alice slipped off the table and immediately reached for the coveted object. Cara pulled away with a scowl and shook her head rapidly.

“I have to show you how to use it first,” the apothecary admonished.

Cara guided the other Forsaken with her free hand, turning her so Alice’s small, round butt pressed against the table. The apothecary knelt down in front of her and held up the modified penis for Aliciena to see.

“It has to be perfectly straight…”

She turned the member so that she held it horizontal to the girl’s pelvis, the shaft pointing out straight.

“And you need to activate the runes like this…”

Cara brushed her fingertip three times around the base of the shaft. Each time she did, a ring of runes would appear and glow brightly and the matching pair around Alice’s naval would do the same.

“And finally…attach it…”

The base of the shaft was pressed to the Forsaken’s pubic mound just above her clit, eliciting a loud gasp of surprise from Alice as the flesh began to attach to her own. She squirmed at the strange new feeling, her hands gripping at the table behind her. It took only a few moments before the member hung from Alice as if it had always been there. She continued to fidget uncomfortably until Cara placed her hands near the shaft, drawing new gasps from the girl, the bizarre sensations forgotten.

“Hm…I need to make sure it worked properly,” the apothecary told her as she began to gently poke and prod at the girl.

Alice bit down hard on her lower lip as unexpected waves of pleasure began to rise from her new appendage. Cara’s fingers touched gently near the base of the shaft, checking the smooth perfect connection to the girl. She occasionally wrapped her fingers around it, moving it from side to side and up and down, inspecting every inch. Unable to control herself, Aliciena let out a low moan as her new shaft began to lengthen and stiffen in the apothecary’s grasp. Below that, her sex began to glisten as the attention to and pleasure from her cock aroused the tight folds of her womanhood. Cara seemed to take no notice.

Releasing Alice’s length, Cara stood and nodded in satisfaction. “Everything attached exactly as I wanted. You are now the proud owner of a new…well, slightly used…penis. Go ahead and have a look.”

Moving on slightly wobbly legs, Alice walked around the table and stood in front of the mirror. Her thin fingers touched the rigid length that jutted from her body, lifting it slightly so she could admire it. Turning to the side, she let out a soft giggle as she looked at her reflection. The member was far too big for the small woman, extending to nearly nine inches and almost too thick for her to wrap her fingers around. It was also still a faint pink color that stood out strongly against her own white flesh.

“To remove it, you do the exact same thing. When you do, the runes will vanish and you can just tug. It should come off. If not, you’ll have to come see me.”

“Remove it? If I didn’t worry about what I’d look like in a dress, I’d never remove this gorgeous thing,” Alice said with another laugh, “I can’t wait to try it out.”

“Well, before you run off on a sex crazed spree, there’s the little concern of payment. This doesn’t come cheap, girl.”

“Of course. I’m prepared to pay,” Alice reassured the apothecary. She wandered back around the table, watching her slowly softening cock bob in front of her. She stooped and picked up her robe, untying her coin purse from the belt. “How much do I owe?”

“Hm…let me see,” Cara said softly, pulling a normal pen and ink from her work case along with a piece of parchment.

She leaned forward on the table as she began to do her calculations, unintentionally sticking her round behind in the air as Alice turned back to her. The Forsaken watched as Cara began shifting from foot to foot in thought, causing her ass it bounce slightly. Immediately, Alice’s new cock began to stiffen again as her sex began to moisten. She slowly moved forward to stand with the apothecary, setting her purse on the table. Without warning, she reached out and ran her hands appreciatively over Cara’s soft butt.

“Stop that, girl,” the apothecary muttered distractedly.

Instead of listening, Alice suddenly grabbed Cara’s robes and hiked them far up her body, pooling them around her waist. Much to her surprise, she found that the apothecary was wearing a slinky pair of black panties that barely covered any of her smooth, cool skin. Her soft hands ran over Cara again, giving her ass a brief squeeze.

“What are you doing? I said st–” Cara began before her words trailed off into a surprised gasp and soft moan. Alice had slipped her hand between the apothecary’s thighs, fingers rubbing against her barely clothed pussy. “No, don’t do that…stop it before I…”

“Before you what? Look at this, you’re wet already and I’ve barely done anything,” Alice said with a laugh. She withdrew her fingers and held them out for Cara to see. They were coated in a shining layer of sticky juices.

“That’s because I…oh…don’t do things like this! No one touches me.”

“How boring. It is a wonder you haven’t gone crazy. I can’t imagine life without constant sex. Here…I’ll even pay you extra…”

“Pay me? I’m not a whore!” Cara said in shock, pulling away from Alice. She pulled her robe back down and turned to face the other Forsaken.

“No, no…you misunderstand. I just want to make sure it works! Think of it like another test,” Alice explained. Her demeanor began to change, the child like silliness dropping away as she spoke in her most soothing tones.

She stepped forward until she pressed flush against the apothecary, her hard cock rubbing against the woman’s stomach. Plucking her robe back up, she slipped her hand back between Cara’s thighs, rubbing teasingly at her sex through her panties. The woman let out a soft moan despite herself, eyes partly closing.

“A…a test. Yes…alright, that makes sense,” Cara murmured breathlessly.

Alice smiled gently as she drew away, just enough so she could quickly pull the apothecary robe from the nervous but eager woman. The robe was quickly followed by her panties, leaving Cara exposed. Her body had clearly been modified many times, from the general thickness of her entire body to the heavy breasts that Alice began to caress and squeeze. She had made her body exactly as she desired it and Alice was eager to explore it.

“How beautiful you are. A shame you hide away under all those robes and shun every one’s touches,” Alice murmured softly, leaning in to kiss and nip at Cara’s neck, “Get up on the table and we’ll start testing.”

Wordlessly, the apothecary hoisted herself up and stretched out on her back, legs spread wide and inviting. Alice followed quickly, positioning herself over Cara. The tip of her new cock pressed to the woman’s wet entrance for a brief moment before she quickly plunged in. Both women let out simultaneous moans of pure pleasure as Alice’s thick shaft filled and stretched Cara’s long unused sex. Alice felt her juices begin to run from her cunt, trickling down her thighs and onto the skin of her partner. The flesh of her shaft was far more sensitive than she had expected and the clinging folds of Cara’s sex sent a nearly continuous wave of pleasure through her body.

Unsteadily, Alice began to thrust her long cock in and out of Cara, slowly gaining speed and confidence in her motions as the awkwardness left the new motions. Before long, her hips began to smack against the other’s as her member plunged into the depths of Cara’s quivering cunt, filling the sex starved apothecary with hard flesh. After only a few moments, Alice could feel her own sex begin to clench at nothing, the delicate folds spasming. She let out a moan that was nearly a scream as she orgasmed, sticky juices gushing from her sex and soaking both women’s thighs and the table beneath them.

Alice’s tiny frame shook at the unexpected power of the orgasm. She gasped and panted above Cara, who reached up and began to stroke Alice’s cheeks affectionately. The new feelings and new pleasures were almost too much for her to take but she was unwilling to stop. She continued to pound hard into the woman beneath her, the thick shaft pushing deeply into Cara with lewd wet sounds. Only a few moments after Alice, the apothecary let out an echoing moan as she reached her own orgasm, tight walls gripping hungrily at the thick shaft buried within.

As soon as Cara relaxed enough for her to continue, Alice quickly began thrusting even more roughly than before. The apothecary wrapped her arms and legs desperately around her partner, entangling herself with Alice as she began letting out a series of loud, panting moans. Her back arched upwards, pressing her firm, round breasts against Alice’s tiny ones. Their hard nipples caressed and teased, eliciting even more pleasure from both women. Beneath them, the table began to rock slightly, scraping over the stone floor in time with each of Alice’s hard, deep thrusts into the apothecary. After only a few more moments, both women succumbed to the new pleasures, both orgasming almost together.

“That…that was…a good test,” Cara panted softly, looking up at Alice with glassy eyes, “I guess…I guess it works.”

“Oh…my dear…we still have more tests to run,” Alice said with a gentle smile. Slowly, she drew away from the apothecary, her cock slipping from Cara’s soaking cunt.

“M…more? I don’t think I can take any more.”

“Alright. Just one more tonight. I’ll come back another day for the rest.”

Cara nodded weakly as Alice moved slowly up her body until she straddled the woman’s chest. Taking the apothecary’s breasts in her hands, she pressed them to either side of her shaft and began rocking slowly, sliding her nectar slick cock against the supple flesh.

“Open your mouth, my dear,” Alice cooed, her fingers pinching lightly at Cara’s nipples, “I’ve always been curious why men always want their dicks sucked.”

The apothecary groaned at Alice’s teasing attentions but opened her mouth obediently. Alice pressed forward until the head of her cock slipped between Cara’s lips, moaning as the woman began to immediately suckle at the sensitive flesh. Her tongue began to stroke and swirl over the tip as she closed her eyes. Alice released her grip on the woman’s breasts and leaned forward, slowly sliding more of her shaft into her mouth. Cara’s tongue worked furiously to caress as much of her new lover’s cock as possible, the thick length quickly filling her mouth the limit. Giving up, she simply began to rub her tongue against the underside of Alice’s member while sucking hungrily on the flesh.

Moaning loudly, Alice began to slowly thrust her hips, sliding her shaft in and out of Cara’s eager mouth. Below her member, her cunt continued to drip sticky nectar. Her thighs were glistening with the liquid and, as she knelt over Cara, she began to coat the apothecary’s ample chest. Cara began to moan at the feel of Alice’s obvious arousal, sending vibrations through the cock in her mouth. This added sensation was just enough to send the woman over the edge again. Arching her back, Alice thrust her cock deep into Cara’s mouth as she orgasmed. Her cunt released another wave of her juices, covering the apothecary’s breasts with the sticky release.

Her entire body twitching, Alice slowly drew back, her member leaving Cara’s mouth with a soft pop. The apothecary closed her eyes, a satisfied smile on her lips as she almost immediately fell asleep on the table, her body covered with the sticky release of both women. Alice shifted and lay down next to the other woman, cuddling close with a soft sigh. Absently, she reached down and begin to lightly touch and stroke her new appendage, the flesh already begin to soften with so much energy having been expended by the girl. She cooed softly to herself, admiring the massive length of flesh as her delicate fingers wrapped around it, stroking it affectionately. She simply couldn’t wait to show her mistress.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Do Bad Guys Always Get the Girl?

When Mr. Nice loses out to Mr. Naughty in the dating game

If we are to believe the movies, the ruthless tough guy always gets the girl. And didn’t it seem that the bad boys at school always had the hottest babes? The best looking girls always seem to love the bad guys. Maybe because the best looking guys always became the bad guys? Everywhere we tend to see bad guys and nice girls. We see fools and meatheads with the girls of our fantasies. In the mall we see our flaxen haired goddesses with America’s Most Wanted. Is it nature at work, is it us, what has gone awry?

Men are confused. We like to refer to stereotypes and work from them. Men are told that we need to be a hero and a tough guy. But then we are told we need to be in touch with our sensitive sides. Meanwhile the man down the street who treats his girlfriends like crap, never calls, is rude and disrespect appears to have a fan club developing. Life, my friends, can seem unfair. But let’s look at what is going on with this scenario.

Interest. Bad guys are interesting, they do interesting things. They have strayed from the straight-and-narrow and have developed their own code of conduct. They do what they want. They go where they want. They answer to no one. They are, in other words, fascinating. Tow the line, do as you are told and inevitably you will be become dull. Mavericks are interesting, straight guys are not.

Bad guys are confident and self assured. They know what they’re about and don’t really care what others think. They are their own men and don’t need others to prop them up. Bad guys don’t have to be in shape, just look at James Galdofini from The Sopranos, who is immensely attractive despite his rotund appearance. Some can become almost caricaturesof themselves, but that doesn’t make them any less attractive.

Plus bad guys are a challenge. We all love a challenge, and women may love a challenge even more than the boys. If something is a challenge, the end results must surely be worthwhile, right? The girls who go after bad guys want to find the pot of gold at the end of crazy rainbow. They will go to great lengths to solve their mysteries. And once they have them, once they’ve conquered the challenge, they don’t want to let go. Plus it makes for an exciting rollercoaster ride because the bad guy could walk away at any moment. The greater the danger of loosing a bad guy, the greater the effort they’ll put forth to keep them. And there may be a lesson there.

What do we have if we combine these facets? Power, strength of character, confidence, a maverick nature and an immensely interesting personality equals sexiness. That is exactly what the bad boy is, so it’s no surprise that this type of guy often get the gal. It doesn’t mean to say that we like them, and it doesn’t mean it is fair or even a good thing, but raw attraction can be nature’s way.

I am not in any way suggesting that we should all be Mr. Bad Guy. Not at all. What I am saying is that there are lessons to be learned here. What is attractive can be modified and added to our arsenal of dating weaponry. How you perceive yourself that matters the most. If you can increase your confidence levels, get your career on the right tracks, excel in what you do and be your own man within the confines of your working life, then you’ll get that bad boy confidence. And that attitude will boost your attractiveness. You don’t need to go around being bad, but you can be a bit more deliberate in your actions, a little less available and a little more enigmatic. This will boost your interest factor and again help in your attractiveness.

The modern dating game is highly complex and courting rituals can be a minefield. Go back to basics, analyze what is it that you think potential partners would like and think about how can you match of yourself to those qualities. Changing just a few small things could make the world of difference.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Clear skies and dark eyes

My mind won’t settle. I can’t think of one topic long enough to focus or to write about it.  My mind is being a toddler–carelessly wandering to the very topics I try avoiding.

I thought of Cassidy last night. Almost immediately I had to think of something different. That memory is still healing. I know what I’ve done is right. I know she will be happy. I know all of this. But I’m tired.

And I can’t figure out how to word anything else without sounding like a big, emotional, baby.

So I’ll leave you with this…

Oh, why must I work so hard,
Just so I can feel like the nobles ones?
Obligations to my heart are gone,
Superficial lines explain it all.

Sometimes I get tired of pins and needles,
Facades are a fire on the skin.
Oh, I’m growing fond of broken people,
As I see that I am one of them.

- Mutemath Pins and Needles

I can’t be the only one that feels the same. But perhaps I’m the only one that is as vocal about it. Why do the good guys finish last? What makes an asshole so appealing? What makes us chase the unattainable? Is it the challenge? Is it the thrill?

In my talk with Cait, she point blank asked (or maybe she just said it, I dunno), “You like the chase.” Well, of course I like the chase. It’s the calm before the storm. In the relationship world, it’s the innocent grace period where anything and everything goes. There are no strings attached. It’s merely the enjoyment of another’s company. The turning point comes when one of the two parties feels comfortable enough to dive head first into the lake of sorrow (wow, depressing Katie).

Hold on, let me explain.

Everyone has that lake–that lake no one wants venture forth. It a lake as still as the trees. The water is as murky as our heart–its never too clear. On the surface it’s warm and refreshing, as is the embankment of a new relationship. But when we dive deeper with one another we find what makes us so cold. The deeper we dive–no matter how fast–the more serious it becomes. If we stay near the surface, we’re safe. It’s not such a challenge to go back up and breathe for air. We can get out the water in a simple fluid motion. However with each  submersion, we combat weaving the intricate emotional web around each other. It’s almost inevitable, but it’s almost always breakable.

Stars and Walls

I want to be back in that room…

Back between those sand-colored walls that saw you and absorbed you…

I want to lay in that white bed.. And look at the ceiling. Count the mismatched spotlights. Stare at the orangish cupboards I always hated, and you always praised.

That room.. That prison.. That safe haven that kept us locked in, and kept our secrets secret. The walls that listened to your moans and smelled your sweat. Those walls.. I want to touch those walls… How many memories.. How many symbols.. And how much longing can all be in one room?

That theatre.. Where we performed.. And made wishes.. Made crimes.. Materialized our sins. Over and over again.

Maybe because it’s small.. Intense.. condensed.
Maybe that is why I see you in it so vividly.. Your naked back.. Your hair.. Black as coal against your white skin.. Long.. Then shorter.. Then shorter.. Why did you cut your hair?

I want to be in that corner where you cried.. Apologize for you again and again for being in love, and being so harsh at it. If I could just keep you in there with me all day and stare in your eyes and forget all about the “others”… The momentaries.. The newcomers.. And those who stay.

If I could have them all lined up on that wall and cross them out with a piece of chalk. Erase them and erase with them all the mistakes that made these walls weaker.. My walls weaker.. My hugs less nourishing.. My kisses less desirable.

Oh what that piece of chalk could do.. And how it could put back everything in its rightful place. And I would then have no dreams of her. And no space for her invasion..

I would not let her infiltrate me like she does.. Tries..

Who does she think she is? Scraping away all that is old.. All that is precious to me.

How can she believe she is a new soft breeze when she is in fact my darkest nightmare, trying and trying to fill my life with her scent when I only want yours?

My walls… Will they ever see her?
I wish never to let her in my sacred chamber, even if it were a catacomb. That room belongs to you. Your body. Your desires. That bed is yours. That window. That lamp. And all the mismatched spotlights.

“wouldn’t it be wonderful, if there was an opening in my ceiling, and we could see the stars?”

You laughed at my foolishness that day.. In the dark..

“If there was an opening, we’d be looking up your brother’s room!”

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Let´s talk about books... good lesbian books

I´m raving mad today.  I have had such a busy day!  But the lovely thing is that even when all about me is mad, bad or just plain bonkers… I can come home, eat my tea, cuddle my girlfriend, catch up with the email, visit the old facebook, and then… retire to my bedroom with a book.  Ah, bliss, there is nothing so lovely as retiring to bed, or a comfy sofa or chair, with a good lesbian book.

Now you may ask, what makes a good lesbian book?  For me, it has to have a interesting story, a bit of romance, some sex but not on every page… and a happy ending.  Actually, I have just described probably 85% of all the lesbian genrĂ© books ever written!  Bella Books and Spinster Ink are two great lesbian book publishers and there is also the Radclyffe productions, Bold Strokes Books.  Also, Yellow Rose and New Victoria and a raft of others.  There is a huge supply of books and now it is so easy to find them with Amazon stocking most titles now.  Also, the easy availability of second hand books has made it easier to get hold of even the old Naiad prints, though most of these have been or are being re-issued by Bella as they bought the old Naiad catalogue.

I am going to spend a couple of days on here reviewing some of the 100s of books I have read over the past ten years and then perhaps we could have a vote.  I´ll start tomorrow with Solitaire and Brahms by Sarah Dreher.  This is one of my all time favourites and the mad thing is that I can´t quite expalin why, except to say I have read and re-read this book so many times and like watching a favourite movie, it just always leaves me with a nice fuzzy feeling.  I think it´s maybe that I just like the two main characters so much…I dunno… anyway, tomorrow I will write a proper review.  Bet you can´wait eh?

Reality TV Shows, Pop Music, Etc... Bad Influence on Children?

I was relating to some friends about how my sister at age 7 was singing “I Kissed A Girl” by Katy Perry.

One friend argued that it wasn’t going to turn my sister lesbian or anything, and the song wasn’t even a song about being lesbian. Yes, I know that, but the fact that my little sister who hasn’t even moved up to the upper grades of elementary school is singing it bothers me.

She also said that little kids aren’t so innocent anyway, and that anything we did wouldn’t influence them. Granted that kids are little munchkins, but I have to disagree and say that what we do DOES influence them and we influence them a lot.

As the eldest, I watched my brother and sister grow up, and even though I went through the normal stages of acting like I was too old to do anything they wanted, or teasing them about every little thing, I thought a lot about how they would grow up. I didn’t want them to turn out impolite or disrespectful. I wanted them to get excited about education, and not just focus on what’s the latest game or fashion trend. My siblings have reached a medium with these things, I guess. My brother likes to play video games, but he loves math as well. My sister hasn’t been in school long enough to know what she’s got a knack for, and for now she loves to play the quintessential dress up and be the ball of energy she always is.

But I’m scared of the other things that happen around them. My sister is always watching the variety shows on GMA( Philippines main channel) as well as the comedy shows. The dancing, singing, and acting that she picks up is incredible to fathom at that early of an age. She dances like an early Britney spears, with the choreography (not with the outfits) and is very dramatic in her re-enactments. Sometimes she gets so caught up in whatever is on TV that she doesn’t know that it’s just acting and not something in reality.

I’m always telling them things that a mom would say. “Wash your hands before you eat.” “Finish your homework.” “Don’t talk to Mom (or Dad) like that!” It’s a bit weird, considering I’m just their big sister, but I’m overprotective. It’s also an experience thing. I want them to know the same things I learned, and the same things I went through, but I know that they’re different from me and they’ll learn at different times. No matter how many times I keep saying this to myself, I end up telling them some lesson or that they should have learned “this” and “that.” I’m just stubborn like that.

I get worried when I see shows like Total Drama Island on Cartoon Network and the variety of shows I won’t care to mention specifically on Nickleodeon and Disney Channel. Some shows were just meant to be on Noggin (channel for teens) and not on main kid networks. I understand that Cartoon Network has Adult Swim, but it has clear warnings at the beginning of the block and most kids should be in bed by 11. But times are changing. More and more each day things are created for kids to emulate the adult life and it makes me think of the childhood that they are replacing for synthetic adulthood. These shows have teens in stiletto heels, glitter make-up, tacky clothes, and bad stereotypes. Total Drama Island is a cartoon reality show that is like a Survivor for teens. The show specifically focuses on teen stereotypes in order to make the characters more memorable for the viewers. The geek, the jock, the pretty girl, the nerd…where does it stop? Why do we need to show the children of society some conformity, when we are supposed to be teaching them to break it. This show is rated PG and has a parental-discretion warning after every commercial break and at the beginning of the show. You would think PG is good enough for parents right? Yet the first episode I saw of the show had a scene where the challenge was to knock off the person holding onto a rope attached to a jet ski by riding fast. One of the girls was on a jet ski and turned around to cut off the rope. Her top (which was a bikini top) caught onto a branch and it came off. CAME OFF!! There was a moment where her pixelated chest is bare and then she covers herself. What kind of image is this trying to say?

I know I have no control over what kids watch, but they should know what is decent and what isn’t. Since when is it okay to put stripping into a kid show? Sex education is one thing, plain lewdness is another.

It’s the same thing with music, but it’s harder to control. Songs like “I Kissed A Girl” and various other songs have been out and about for a long time. Once it becomes a hit, there’s no stopping the song from hitting the radio waves, on stations that kids could be listening to. Yes, yes, there is Radio Disney, but they are bound to hear the song somewhere. What do kids think of when they hear these songs? Do they even know what the lyrics mean? I guess it comes down to the parents/guardians in their life. Control over exposure to these things is crucial, but sometimes things just slip by the cracks.

Do you think that the world has gotten careless in exposing children to things outside their age? Has it always been like this or have I just been naĂŻve? Is there anything we can do?

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

No more waiting for crumbs

From Socialist Worker

http://socialistworker.org/2009/09/18/no-more-waiting-for-crumbsSherry Wolf, author of Sexuality and Socialism: History, Politics and Theory of LGBT Liberation [1], makes the case for demonstrating in Washington at the National Equality March on October 11. Sherry is currently on a speaking tour of the East Coast [2].

September 18, 2009

THE NEWS this week that New York Rep. Jerry Nadler has proposed legislation to repeal the Clinton-era Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) would have been sufficient to quell the demands of LGBT activists one year ago.

Today, Nadler’s bill is a welcome step. But the fact that it comes seven months into the presidency of a man who promised to repeal DOMA–and amid comments from Democratic leaders like House Speaker Nancy Pelosi that getting rid of the federal anti-marriage equality law isn’t a “priority”–highlights the molasses pace of LGBT rights legislation and the bankruptcy of the incrementalist strategy that has guided the LGBT movement for decades.

Like the moribund Equal Rights Amendment campaign for women’s constitutional equality–initiated in 1923, reintroduced in 1972 and never passed by the required 38 states–LGBT gradualists have argued for a state-by-state legislative approach to winning change.

Enough begging for crumbs. If we want equal rights for LGBT people in all matters governed by civil law in all 50 states, we have to demand it from the federal government–and that means getting out and marching on October 11 in Washington, D.C.

That’s what Generation Twitter and thousands of others–via Facebook, street heat and word of mouth–have been expressing in protests across the country since the passage last November of California’s anti-equal marriage referendum Proposition 8.

President Barack Obama’s own equivocation these last months shows the limitations of an electoral strategy–and the importance of struggle.

He is the first president to publicly utter the word transgender and to honor the anniversary of the 1969 Stonewall riots last June. Yet his Justice Department first insultingly upheld and then opposed DOMA. And Obama continues to drag his feet on repealing “don’t ask, don’t tell”–a policy that its own author, Gen. Colin Powell, calls for ending.

The relationship between LGBT activists and the Democratic Party has been a dysfunctional one. The Democrats court LGBT votes and money, but offer few gains and a fair share of abuse in exchange.

Notably, openly gay Rep. Barney Frank has refused to sign on to Nadler’s DOMA repeal bill, saying, “It’s not anything that’s achievable in the near term.” Frank, quite busy these days shoveling bailout money to the Wall Street bankers, was also instrumental in tossing transgender people out of proposed employment non-discrimination legislation in 2007.

For LGBT activists wooed by the Democrats, ditching the more militant strategy that won a hearing in the first place for a “don’t rock the boat” approach is the price to play.

Thirty-five years have passed since gay civil rights legislation was first proposed in Congress, yet LGBT people remain an unprotected class of citizens. Whereas the denial of the rights of gays to work for the federal government, for example, was enacted with the stroke of a president’s pen in Executive Order 10450 in 1953, no such swift action has been taken to overturn decades of institutional discrimination.

When Bill Clinton was in the White House, it wasn’t until nearly six years into his presidency that he Executive Order 11478, providing partial relief for lesbian and gay federal employees–not including 3 million military personnel.

But the fact that his action left intact sodomy laws (finally overturned by the Supreme Court in 2003), anti-same-sex marriage legislation (which he signed), the military’s unequal status for LGBT people (which he introduced!), and never mentions the rights of those who are transgender, exposes the failure of the electoral route for winning civil rights for sexual minorities.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -

WE’VE GOT to strike while the iron’s hot. Today, political tectonic plates are shifting rapidly, and groups and individuals need to get on board or step aside to let a new generation push ahead for full equality.

When Harvey Milk’s protĂ©gĂ© Cleve Jones put out the call for the National Equality March on Washington in October, almost every major LGBT group balked, arguing that there wasn’t enough time, and a march wasn’t the right strategy.

But the force of events and popular sentiment compelled organizations such as the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) to endorse this march. It’s a positive sign that HRC feels the pressure to endorse–while grassroots activists shaping the march haven’t watered down its demand for full equality now.

Unlike marches of the recent past, this one will not be brought to you by Miller Beer, Citibank or any other corporate entity. Its bare-bones budget is posted on its Web site [3], and celebrities like Cyndi Lauper and Lady Gaga are volunteering their services and paying their own way. It’s grassroots all the way.

New activists are showing the way forward. When Black lesbians Aiyi’nah Ford and Torian Brown were kicked out of a Silver Springs, Md., diner for embracing, they called a protest in late August–and then got involved in building the march on Washington. A police raid on the Rainbow Lounge bar in Forth Worth, Texas–carried out on the night of the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall rebellion–sent patron Chad Gibson to the emergency room. Outraged LGBT folks called a protest–and now they’re also building for the October 11 march. So are the local LGBT people in Atlanta, who responded with protests after an early September raid at the Eagle bar.

All of these actions have made international news and are forcing authorities to apologize and change policies.

Many transgender people, accustomed to being pushed into the shadows, have thrown themselves into building this march–from veteran Florida activist Donna Lee, who serves on the steering committee, to newer radicals like Dove Paige Anthony in Chicago’s Join the Impact. Trans voices will be heard from the stage as well.

Whether the National Equality March draws tens of thousands or many more is hard to tell since so many established media outlets are ignoring it–though CNN, MSNBC and the LGBT cable network LOGO have agreed to give it exposure.

No matter how many turn out to march on October 11–or attend the vast array of workshops the day before–it will help punctuate a turning point for LGBT civil rights.

And a new network of activist groups will emerge from this march: Equality Across America. As Massachusetts activist Gary Lapon puts it, “We are not simply organizing to protest, but protesting to organize.”

The new mood for LGBT equality is a reflection of a generation that grew up with unprecedented cultural exposure to sexual and gender variance, yet lives with draconian laws and organizational strategies that asphyxiate dynamism and shut down debate. No more crafting our demands to suit the tepid conservatism of a bygone era. We want it all!

President Obama, this is our Rosa Parks moment. When will you allow LGBT people sit at the front of the bus?

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

Material on this Web site is licensed by SocialistWorker.org, under a Creative Commons (by-nc-nd 3.0) [4] license, except for articles that are republished with permission. Readers are welcome to share and use material belonging to this site for non-commercial purposes, as long as they are attributed to the author and SocialistWorker.org.

  1. [1] http://www.haymarketbooks.org/product_info.php?products_id=1774
  2. [2] http://www.haymarketbooks.org/event.php?id=23
  3. [3] http://equalityacrossamerica.org/blog/?page_id=2501
  4. [4] http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0

Midsumma here we come!

So yes, I have been a little quiet on the blog front but that doesn’t mean nothings been happening. Today Fernando and I received confirmation that we have been accepted to exhibit our project as part of Midsumma 2010. Very bloody exciting. Fernando will be performing as part of opening night and my photos will be up for all the world (well, of melbourne) to see! Yay!

So scroll through previous posts and check out the work Fern and I have done thus far and lemme know what ya think.

Ok, back to the process and stay tuned for more updates…

Sunday, September 20, 2009

tube8.com

No, no, no need to pay. None of the sites recommended on this blog will ever be anything you need to pay for. As the ancient Greeks, I swear on my well-beloved testicles and make testimony (see the etymology, buddy?) of that fact.

Today’s site is 8Tube, that stole my heart with its straightforward interface, meticulous categorisation, and most importantly, comments. Registration is free and does not need a credit card number/phone number/dental records. Categories include amateur, anal, Asian, blowjob, ebony, erotic, fetish (some pretty far-out ones here), gay, hardcore (and here), Latina, lesbian, mature, shemale, strip (woo hoo!), and teen.

Hover your mouse over any of the thumbnails, and it displays stills from the vid, like the most enthralling PowerPoint presentation you’ll ever see.

As with this video (’My MOM Again’, if anyone’s interested), all videos have comments under them, most of them far more helpful or friendly than anything on YouTube, for example. That’s what really sets this site apart. It’s the next best thing to discussing your darkest fetishes and sharing your favourite porn with your Facebook friends (now there’s an app idea….)

Oh and, did I mention every video can be downloaded for future pleasure? Yep. Here comes a sticky keyboard….

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Dating Rules for Women

The Do’s and Dont’s of dating for the modern female

Guys: If you don’t like this, look away now.

In another dating article on this site, you will find a general set of rules than men should follow when dating. In the same way, women have some general rules that they should contend with when entering the dating jungle. Now I know everyone is different, so don’t take things too seriously here. There has been some controversy over some literature published in the USA that lays out in detail the rules a woman should follow to get her guy (or gal). Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider’s 1995 bestseller “The Rules,” explains how women should play hard if they want to get their guy. I can understand why some groups would be hostile about this, but the fact is that when we grow up, there are a predefined set of dating rules. What happens is that we forget most of them after the age of 21, and then realize we need to relearn them.

I wish there weren’t any general rules, but courtship is a ritual. There are things that we make happen that excite, stimulate, create interest and confound. Dating is a long test of compatibility. Are we perfectly matched? If we just threw ourselves together, then the chances of long term happiness might be compromised. And yet previous generations managed to succeed on a far less complex courtship criteria list. Many arranged marriages work all too interestingly.

In every society there are a predefined set of social rules we follow, from the way and timing of eating to the way we behave in public. The issue here is that when women date, there are some things that can help them be more successful. If we accept that dating is a game, then there are rules to that game. There are winners and losers. If you know the rules in advance, it gives you a head start. If men know the rules by which you are playing, you may change the rules to suit the situation to keep the man guessing. Men love a challenge, so feel free to adapt rules and add them as you feel inclined.

You can separate rules out into two parts, dating and online dating. Both areas have distinct rules that a woman should follow for dating success.

General Dating Rules

  • Always look great, whatever your income. Gorgeous hair and some lipstick with rags will still turn his head. You have the advantage. You are the woman. Look your best as you could meet a potential Mr. Right anywhere at any time.
  • Never reveal information you don’t have to. An enigmatic woman drives men wild.
  • Keep dates brief, but your men interested. Less is always more.
  • Try and stay in shape and involve some fitness regime at a gym. However much you hate it, your Mr. Right loves your body as much as your mind.
  • Let your man pay. If he is interested, he is interested enough to ensure you eat well and get home safely in a cab.
  • Ensure you receive flowers. If he doesn’t know what a florist is, dump him.
  • Never ever sleep with a guy until he has fallen for you. Sex early in your dating game plan will ruin everything.
  • Always keep a guy waiting and never turn up early. It is a lady’s perogative.
  • Never be available when he wants you to be. Never be at the end of a phone when he calls and always let him leave a message or two first before replying.
  • If he is available Tuesday, you are available Thursday.
  • Weekend shopping trips with girlfriends are sacred and not available for dates.
  • Keep your man standing on quicksand by shifting landmarks and goalposts constantly.
  • Ensure you are a good kisser. Men will walk away if you cannot kiss. Practice on a mirror if you have to.
  • Never ever talk about previous boyfriends, particularly their prowess in the bedroom. Your ex-boyfriends are your business only.
  • Never assume anything about your date until you choose to know him better. You cannot always tell by looking.
  • If any man shows the slightest signs of possessiveness or insecurity, run like the wind. Life is too short for boys.
  • If his shoes or hygiene are a disgrace, dump him.
  • Never talk too much about your father and how your date measures up in comparison.
  • Never ever come across as too available or too desperate. He will run a mile. He is the one doing the chasing.
  • If the guy in the corner is gorgeous, go get him and create the need in him for you. Never wait for men to come to you because you may watch him leave with someone else.
  • You may well have all the bodily functions of a man, just try not to demonstrate them early on.
  • If you want a child, don’t mention it on the first few dates.
  • Never ever criticize his mother unless you want to remain single.

Online Dating Rules

  • Always let them come to you, don’t chase them via email.
  • Block anyone who annoys you instantly.
  • Post the best and most vampish photo you can find.
  • Don’t reply to instant messages with clever opening lines.
  • Remain aloof and let yourself be chased.
  • Always reply to emails at least 3 days after receipt.
  • Never provide your real email or phone details.
  • Always date safely and protect yourself at every turn.
  • Make sure your login name is stunning and sexy, as well as enigmatic.
  • Do not login for hours on end. Short, rapid visits are best.
  • Do not assume the person you are talking to is destitute or sad.
  • Never ever reply to emails on weekends. Wait until a weekday.
  • Never state how good your sexual performance is in your profile.
  • If you don’t want to date married men, spell it out in your profile.
  • A man who doesn’t reply to your email within 3 days should be ignored.
  • Make sure your humor levels come across in text.
  • Do not chat to hundreds of men at once. The delay in replying is a dead giveaway and your Mr. Right will be off.
  • Don’t even think about misrepresenting your size or description. They will find out.
  • Come across as cool and sophisticated for best results

Ladies, always remember that you are a sexy, desirable woman and the world is your oyster. Always let men do the chasing and always allow yourself to be the chooser. Always stay safe and never risk yourself for the sake of attending a date. Always use a safe dating Website.

...looking for inspiration...

i created this website to reassure people struggling with coming out of the closet that they are not alone.  everyone has a different story to tell about the day they first admitted – out loud – that they were gay|lesbian|bisexual|transgendered.  but it’s also a shared experience.

what is your story?  what were your fears, hopes?  how has your life changed since?  are you going through it now?  what are your most difficult moments?  was it a relief?  how did your loved ones react?

i’m looking for letters/emails/stories, which i will post anonymously here.

please submit yours at lifeoutsidethecloset@gmail.com

proud.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Passion

Man I want to have passion. I long for passion. I don’t feel like I am a passionate person and it bugs me sometimes. I want to feel enough about something that I am propelled by it. Sexually I get that feeling when I see a girl that I find attractive; and man it feels good to feel that. I feel alive. I wish that I could feel that sexual passion towards my husband. And I have a passion for God but I don’t think it is always noticeable to those around me or even to myself if I am honest. A lot of times He gets pushed to the side, out of the focus of my day. I know He should by my center, my all consuming passion. So it would be nice to be more inflamed for Him as well. But I also want a pasison for something, for some goal or purpose here with my life here on this planet. Some people have their music, some their sport, some their hobby or their career, etc. I want to love something so much that I could enjoy doing it all the time if I had the opportunity. I don’t have anything like that. So that coupled together with the fact that physically and spiritually the passion is not getting me going leads to a pretty blah life.

I mean I guess it is kinda good that i don’t have anything that strong in my life to pull me away from God and His rightful place in my life, but even though, I still don’t seek Him as passionately as I should. So, maybe it is a bad thing and not a good thing. If I had something that gave me joy to do maybe my outlook and attitude would be better? Like I would feel more fulfilled, like I am living out a purpose in a way deisgned just for me to do? And then I would feel closer to God? I don’t know. I just keep wondering, I mean really what am I here for? I know our ultimate purpose is to bring God glory, but I wish I knew what really got me going and filled me with joy so that I can better be in the right frame of mind and attitude during my day to that I can represent God more successfully.

I just really want to feel…. I feel so dead inside half the time. And I get angry and depressed and lose hope so easily.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Obama LGBT Hat Trick

A Golden Opportunity for Christ Followers

With the Local Law Enforcement Hate Crimes Prevention Act already passed by the House and working its way through the Senate, the Employment Non Discrimination Act (ENDA) scheduled for a House Education and Labor hearing this month, and the introduction of legislation to repeal the Defense of Marriage Act, the Obama administration is quietly waiting in the wings to pull off a hat-trick for lesbian-gay-bisexual-transgender (LGBT) activists.

ENDA introduced by Rep. Barney Frank would prohibit an employer from refusing to hire someone on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity. The bill (H.R. 3017) specifically exempts religious organizations, and according to a popular LGBT blog  post by Dr. Jillian T. Weiss this extends to religious oriented businesses, schools and camps. It does not extend to secular businesses that are owned by people of religious beliefs that condemn LGBT sexual orientation.

The Respect for Marriage Act introduced by Rep. Gerald Nadler repeals the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) and would grant federal recognition to same-sex marriages if the marriage was performed in a state that allows such unions. The repeal would have implications for taxes, social security benefits, and pensions, regardless of where the couple lives. In other words if a same-sex marriage was performed in Connecticut ( a state that recognizes such unions) and then the couple moved to Maryland ( a state that does not recognize same-sex marriage) the couple would have all the rights afforded a man-woman marriage by the federal government.

All three pieces of legislation will be working their way through Congress and the debate over family values and discrimination will begin to perk to the top of the House’s to-do list late this fall. Already conservative organizations have begun campaigns to illuminate the subtleties of the bills. Mean while LGBT groups are turning up the heat fearing that health care reform, climate change, and the appropriations bills will push their agenda to the back burner and away from the President’s desk.

The legislative trio comes at a time when a growing number of Christian churches and organizations are questioning the biblical validity of the venom being spewed by some conservative Christians. In his book unChristian: What a New Generation Thinks About Christianity and Why it Matters, author David Kinnaman devotes an entire chapter to the intolerance, both perceived and real, that has stereotyped the evangelical church. Kinnaman maintains that this is the single biggest issue that prevents younger generations from being open to the truth of the gospel.

As Christ followers we have an opportunity in this debate to erase years of misconceptions and animosity. We can stop the demagoguery and remember that the traditional views (i.e. slavery) of the church have not always been correct. We can debate the issues with tolerance and compassion. We must open the doors of our churches to the LGBT community and say “There is room in here for all”.  Above all else we can remember that we are called to love one another.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Terrible Tuesdays

I’ve had a bad fucking day. What I want to do is go get laid. Lie naked in the bed for hours with my “mister” and have him make me orgasm again and again until I cannot breathe. But no, I am at home, with my husband and kids.

Yesterday I tried to be nice and pleasant to my husband and it resulted in him trying to lift up my shirt and numerous suggestions of sex (gag me now, ugh). See my He wants to fuck me post for more details. So what do I do tonight? I don’t feel pleasant, I feel mean. I feel grumpy. I hate Tuesdays.I hate him.  And I definitely am not going to fuck him…. marriage sucks. Well at least, my marriage sucks. I cannot wait to be out of this nightmare.

Seriously, there is something bad about Tuesdays. Things go wrong on Tuesdays. Today, a funeral and I’m grumpy as fuck. Last Tuesday, who knows, but I was grumpy as fuck then too. The kids were fucking insane this morning, INSANE. Every last nerve of mine was on edge. Maybe they know it’s Tuesday too.

I really am fucking horny. How long has it been since I’ve been fucked? Hmmm, Labor Day, so not too long, but longer than I would have liked. Came on Sunday, but it wasn’t to a cock, so it was good, but well, I want a cock. HIS cock. (my “mister’s cock). Got each other off on Sunday but not quite the same as an amazing fuck. Especially with him, it’s hours of pleasure.

Someone mentioned recently that lesbians sex is amazing because there is no distinction between foreplay and sex, that foreplay is sex and sex is foreplay. Further that the destination is not the goal, the goal is the journey. That is how sex is with my mr.

I don’t know if that’s what you call men in an affair, but hell, if I’m called a mistress, then he can be my mister (mr. for short). It’s my blog, it’s my post, I’ll say whatever the fuck I want.

Masturbated in the car today on the way to a funeral to the thought of HIM getting me off. Thinking of his face between my legs and riding his cock. God damn, I’m horny today.

I must be grumpy, how many times did I say the word “fuck” above. Well, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, eternity. Nope, still don’t feel better. Think I need to do it, not say it.

Monday, September 14, 2009

the more things change...

After reading D’Emilio and Freedman’s brief account of the beginnings of the gay liberation movement, I was particularly struck not by the giant changes in acceptance of queer lives, but rather by the similarities that can still be seen between now and the 60s.  Although the currently focuses mainly on gay marriage with brief sideline jaunts into gays in the military, many of the issues focused on by groups like the Gay Liberation Front and Gay Activists Alliance are still problematic.

For example, raids on gay bars were an enormous issue in gay life of the 50s, 60s, and 70s.  Many gay bars were run by the Mafia, which had the resources to pay off the police.  However, raids were still a common occurrence, with the attendant fears of police abuse and arrest.  Early gay groups fought to end these raids, the most public of which culminated in the Stonewall Riots in 1969.  30 years later, gay bars are still being targeted by police, as evidenced by the raid of the Atlanta Eagle, a popular gay men’s leather bar on September 10th.

According to witnesses, patrons at the bar were forced to the floor and searched repeatedly.  In addition, patrons report hearing police officers use both anti-gay and racial epithets.  There seems to be little concrete information available on the rationale behind the police raid, but organizers of a rally to protest the police action describe it as harassment, and a police spokesman indicated that they had received tips that sex was taking place inside the establishment.

Here’s more information on the raid and its aftermath: http://www.sovo.com/thelatest/thelatest.cfm?blog_id=27160

and an article about another raid in Fort Worth this June: http://www.dallasvoice.com/artman/publish/article_11499.php

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Actively Fighting

ok so my marriage has been so up and down over its near decade of existance.  We have had all sorts of issues.  I was always one of those people who didn’t “believe” in divorce.  Same with my hubby, we vowed to not let it be a part of our vocabulary when we got married.  We thought we would be able to show other people how marriage should be done, like we knew how to do it and ours would be great.  Boy were we wrong!  I would never had expected some of the stuff we have gone through.  Especially the past few years with the whole “issue” now part of everything.

Besides the whole, not being that attracted to my hubby thing, he is constantly disappointing me, not pursuing me, doesn’t seem to really know and understand me still, is very busy and doesn’t help around the house that much with chores handy work or the kids, is gone a lot for work, doesn’t lead me spiritually, doesn’t push me or challenge me, isn’t romantic, makes bad decisions a lot, etc…  He has gotten a lot better over the years as we try to work things out between us, but it still feels hopeless sometimes.  Like it will get better for a bit and then fades off again back to old ways.  It is sort of like 2 steps fwd and 1 step back, lol.  I get sick of saying the same thing over and over.  I am at the point now where I told him that I dont know what else to do or how else to say it, it is just depressing and we are stuck in this mess.  That was a couple months ago.  It got a lot better after that but it has already been fading in and out. I mean it is hard enough to make a marriage work; try adding the whole gay aspect into the mix.  It makes for an interesting time.  What a battle it will be to make this marriage survive.

Anyway, I have been struggling a lot lately with the whole “being attracted to girls” thing.  Where it has been consuming my thoughts and desires more.  I was starting to relish in them but at the same time holding caution and questioning.   I am still in wonder about how this whole thing works, the reality of the feelings and thoughts I have and the blatentness the scripture has about it all.  Some of the stuff I have been shown to read has been helpful in some ways.  I wish I was head over heels in love with my husband.  I was I felt a burning passion for him and desired him sexually in an intense way.  When I see a girl I think is hot, I automatically see myself caressing her and kissing her and just smiling and being flirty and fun.  There is a passion there and it feels good to feel that way.  To feel something like that.  I really wish I could feel that for my mate.

Today I have been lovey towards my hubby.  Real touchy, silly, playful, kissy, etc.  I am usually not wanting to act in that way with him.  Many times we will go days without kissing each other.  Now, I don’t really know why I started doing this today but it felt nice to do it (not as in sexually nice but just nice).  I was thinking about it and I think it is like I am actively fighting; fighting for my marriage, fighting against unwanted things, fighting for love, etc…  But something inside me must have been leading me into that for it was an internal motivation, I just kept doing it and I wasn’t sitting there thinking, “ok go over there and kiss him and pretend u want to.”  It was like, “I just wanna kiss him” (but not in a passionate way).  Anyway, if that all made any sense to anyone I have no idea, lol.

Later on he was like, “have I been doing anything lately that has made you be like this?”  And I was like, well you have been doing a lot of things lately and I like it but that’s not why.  So he asked if I knew why then?  And I told him that I was just actively fighting.  And he said well that’s good; good that you aren’t just laying down taking a beating.  LOL

Another fighting note, I have also looked into any support groups/counseling/whatever that I can maybe go to and check out.  I really want to meet other people who are dealing with the same thing I do.  I feel that I am alone in it.  I can’t tell if there are any other women at my church who are; none look like they would be.  And if I told anyone that I know here about what I deal with, I am not sure how they would take it.  I already am not that close to anyone so would hate losing any chance of friendship I might have there.  So who knows what will come.  But I am hopeful.

[Via http://droppingfigleaves.wordpress.com]

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Sugar Nightclub - Opening in Ashton - 18th September 2009

See http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=159664648676&ref=share for details of a new showbar and nightclub opening in Ashton from Friday 18th September 2009.

It describes itself on the Facebook event page as: ‘…a real bar for gays and straights, all genders welcome.  Open 7 days a week: Monday to Thursday, 4pm to 2am; Friday to Sunday, 1pm to 2am.’

Address given is 222 Stamford Street, Ashton.   Further details can be obtained from shaunperrin@hotmail.co.uk

[Via http://proudtameside.wordpress.com]

Friday, September 11, 2009

I want you to fuck me into submission.

Hi there guys and gals, I wanted to let you in on a personal secret of mine.I like it rough…really rough!Cuff me and pull my hair,slap me around and slam my throat!Participate in my polls and comment me and I’ll get back to you.Tell me about your sexual desires and what you want to do to me,or what you want me to do to you.I’ll taste ya later sweets. muah! XOXOXO click on the gravatar on the right to access my full page.

[Via http://sexualdeviant.wordpress.com]

Kitchen Magnets...



I have a magnet on my refrigerator that was left behind by my mother. It is the only one of her magnets that I haven’t taken down. It simply states, “I support the Matthew Shepard Foundation.” It took a long time to get up there and hopefully, it will never come down.

I came out to my parents when I was 18, in 1990. At that time, gay men and lesbians were still hiding, they weren’t seen on television and in movies and they definitely weren’t made judges, like Ellen Degeneres, on American Idol. If we were seen in movies, we were casted as AIDS patients or effeminate guys prancing around. While those stereotypes might have been true of some, they weren’t true of everyone. My Dad and Stepmother were easy to come out to, being that my father is a surgeon, a man of medicine, who believed that sexual orientation was decided at birth. I thought my mother would be just as easy to comfort, but that wasn’t the case.

Some background on my mother is important. She was extremely liberal, always voted Democrat, and believed in the underdog. She lived in Chicago during the late sixties and worked at Northwestern Library and as a teacher at an orthodox Hebrew school. At that school, she was the only gentile employee and most of her students were first generation immigrants to the United States, whose parents still had concentration camp numbers imprinted on their arms. My mother and my aunt both went to inner city schools and graduated from Broad Ripple High School in Indianapolis. My mother would tell stories about spending her summers at the Rivera County Club and remembered different bathrooms and water fountains for “white” and “colored” people. She would become extremely outraged by any mistreatment of humanity, yet she struggled with my being gay. “I’m just really worried about you Peter.” She said. “Don’t worry mom, I’m not stupid, I’ll be safe.” I replied, meaning practicing safer sex practices. To this day, I remember her sitting back in her chair, smirking, as if I could not grasp her simple meaning. “I’m not worried about you getting sick.” She said, “I’m worried about how society will treat you.” And there began our journey together.

For several years afterward, she would introduce my boyfriends as “friends” to people she knew, and even to some of her closest, “Christian” friends, she struggled when they asked her if I had a girlfriend or why I wasn’t married. Until, October 7th, 1998. I remember sitting at home that night and my mom calling me. “Are you watching this on the news?” she said. Of course I wasn’t. I rarely watched the news, unlike she and my father, who had always been news junkies and were always up to the minute on world events. “No, what’s going on mom.” She began sobbing on the other end of the phone. “There’s this boy from the University of Wyoming who was beaten and left for dead out in the middle of nowhere because he was gay. It’s just so horrible.” She was inconsolable. Finally after several minutes, she got off of the phone and told me she would call me the next day. Which she did, before my alarm even went off. “Ok, I’ve been on the phone with the hospital all night trying to contact his mother.” I had no idea what she was talking about, as my mind had drifted away from any misery in the night. “What the hell are you talking about?” I said. “Matthew Shepard.” She replied, “That boy from Wyoming. He’s at the hospital in Colorado and they are not sure he will make it. I’ve been trying to contact his mother to let her know how bad I feel for her and how I relate, but they won’t put me through.” The hilarious point, if there is any, of this statement is that my mother always felt entitled to be part of any event. If there was a car accident, she would pull over and ask the police if they needed any help. If a national official was in trouble, she would attempt to write a letter or educate others. Yet at times, she didn’t know when to pull back.

Five days later, Matthew Shepard died. My mother was silent for almost two days and then asked me to come over to her condo because she needed to talk to me. When I got to her house, she had made a pot of coffee and we sat down in the living room. “What is it?” I asked, not sure what the seriousness of the occasion would entail. “I want to know.” She said. “I want to know what it’s been like for you. Matthew Shepard died from hate and I want to know what it’s been like for you through the years because honestly, I wouldn’t even know you were gay if you hadn’t told me.”(and to this, I still give a little chuckle.)But I told her anyway…

I told her how in elementary school and junior high, kids would make fun of me for my lack of athletic ability. They would also point to the “homogenized milk” cartons at lunch, and laugh at me, saying I was like the milk. They would lisp, they would push, they would attack. And it didn’t get any better in high school. Every day, I dreaded going to school because I was afraid of what someone would write on my locker, spray on my car, or say as I walked through the hallways. I would constantly be called a faggot, pushed into lockers and made fun of by the kids around me. And worse still, even my friends wouldn’t stand up for me. When graduation closed in on me, I was afraid to walk across the stage because of my fear that someone might call me names as I walked across the stage and my parents would have to be privy to the private pain I wore every day. A strange side note to this story is that I had one such nemesis in high school named Matt. Although he wasn’t aware of this, for years after high school, the things that he and his friends had said and done to me lingered with me, making me shy in social situations and ashamed of being gay. Finally, my determination to challenge ignorance such as theirs helped me to become the strong, proud person I am today, capable of having healthy relationships and friendships. The strange part is that he befriended me on Facebook less than a year ago. He is now aware of how I felt in high school, has taken responsibility and I now consider him a friend. We all grow up. We all deserve a second chance. Even me. But high school was hell. And I have to believe in some way it contributed to my extreme substance use because as long as I was wasted, I didn’t really care what people said to or about me. But my mother did.

And she couldn’t contain her hurt that day we had our talk. She wanted to personally call the parents of every “child” that had been mean to me and make them aware of how their children had treated me. But I was almost thirty at that point, and life had moved on, and there wasn’t really any point anyway. But for her, things changed. She no longer called my boyfriends “friends”. In fact, my ex-boyfriend Shawn became a permanent part of our family and was probably one of the people closest to her in her life. She was not ashamed or protective of me anymore, and felt that it should be the other persons shame or burden to carry if they couldn’t handle the fact that her son was gay. When she died, I received a letter from the Matthew Shepard Foundation regarding my mother and found countless letters she had written Judy Shepard, Matthews mother, rough drafted in her many notebooks about how society was a cruel frontier and how mothers were the captains of their children’s ships. One of our closest friends, MaryAnn, contributed to this foundation, because she knew how much my mother cared about it’s cause and how her endearing love for me was also in her love for me as her gay son. And then the fight continued…or so I thought.

Because I met Alex. And he changed my perspective on everything. He wasn’t quite as out with his family as I had been, being that he is much younger and that culturally and religiously his mother is not necessarily at the same point my mother was by the time she was fifty. But I believe that will come with time. Because love endures and love translates what we do not understand, but feel it’s intensity nonetheless. And I love his mother because she has amazing energy and has allowed me to become part of their family. And Alex has challenged me on words like “fag” and “faggot”. He believes that these “words” only carry as much weight as we give them. And on a few occasions when someone has called him one of these names, he responds with something like, “thank you for noticing.” And maybe that’s the way to go about it. Because this Saturday, we’ll be heading to our engagement party that his coworkers are throwing us. And tonight we took his teenage brother to see a movie. And yesterday we went grocery shopping and took our new pups all over town. Because we’re just like everyone else and we don’t need to be separate. It’s important to bring the awareness to the gay community, but maybe it’s more important for us to lessen the tension, just a little bit. Why take ourselves so damn seriously.

But it does remind me of how we treat each other. And how words have lasting impressions like a burn from a curling iron on your forehead. Or how love is not pain, but endurance, compassion and understanding. It does not hurt. And how everyone deserves the chance to grow up. Everyone. But Matthew Shepard wasn’t given that chance. So for that reason, I think today I’ll forgive everyone that gave me a hard time in high school, and especially Matt, because he’s pretty cool these days and if we ever got together I think enough time has gone by that we might be able to be pretty good friends. But most importantly, because people are dying everyday, and quite frankly, it’s easier to love than to hate…because, we’re on borrowed time as it is…

[Via http://thoughtsfromthecouch.wordpress.com]

Thursday, September 10, 2009

New Teen Fiction & Fantasy for September!

Candor by Pam Bachorz

Candor is the perfect city where perfect teens live perfect lives and make their perfect parents proud. Oscar knows why – his father, the founder, developed technology that makes even the most rebellious teens conform. Oscar gets kids out…for a price. Then he meets Nia, an artist and a rebel, and he finds himself smitten.  Oscar wants to change – he wants to save Nia, whether that means getting her out or hiding her in plain sight.  But the powers that be are stronger than even Oscar realized, and soon he is asking himself what sacrifices he is willing to make for love.  Candor is a terrifying, heartbreaking, slightly insane story that clearly resonates a Stepford vibe and keeps the reader guessing through the last page.  If you’re looking for a chilling sci-fi, this is your book.

Possessions by Nancy Holder

Lindsay is a scholarship student at Marlwood Academy. Surrounded by rich girls, Lindsay isn’t sure she’ll survive. Of course, fitting in is the least of her worries once she discovers queen bee, Mandy’s, weird obsession. Marlwood has a secret past, and Mandy and pals are up to no good…in a black arts, raising the dead sort of way.  Possessions is the novel Steven King would have written has he been asked to write Gossip Girl – full of the posh cliques, girlie drama and high school shenanigans, but also scary as Hell.   With its creepy, secluded setting, ethereal language, and leanings toward the occult, Possessions is the perfect book to not read alone in the dark.

Ash by Malinda Lo

Forget that this groundbreaking novel is a lesbian retelling of Cinderella.  That’s not the whole story.  That’s just a buzzline that is, yes, intriguing, but does little justice to Malinda Lo’s elegant narration of a new story: the story of Ash.  Aisling is the daughter of a greenwich’s former apprentice, and was raised on the fairy stories of old. But these stories have lost favor in the city, and when Ash’s father remarries after her mother’s tragic death, it is Ash’s poor luck that he would choose a city woman for a wife.  Ash’s stepmother also brings two daughters, and it isn’t long before Ash is delegated to the lower class of the household.  When Ash’s father falls ill, she knows her life will never be the same.  Now a servant in her own home, Ash’s only reprieve is her walks in the woods, where she meets the mysterious Sidhean, a fairy man who, unlike the fairies of Ash’s stories,  does not seem to wish her harm.  But it isn’t Sidhean who enchants her – it’s the King’s Huntress, Kaisa, who stays on Ash’s mind.  Melinda Lo’s elegant style makes this is truly one of the most remarkable books I’ve read this year, and readers who like a good fairytale – regardless of their sexuality or gender – will fall in love with Ash.

[Via http://kidsblog.bookpeople.com]

Happy Little Lesbian Homemaker

 

Why be a Lesbian Homemaker?

 

Because that’s pretty much how it’s always been anyway…

I had a birthday a few days ago and I’ve been busy reflecting and celebrating on pure *me-ness* for the past couple of days. Unfortunately, I can’t depend on anyone I’m related to, to actually care that I’ve survived 30 whole years on this earth. That’s quite a feat of endurance from my point of view…and I almost didn’t make it… But of course relatives can suck ass at the wrong times, and it really shouldn’t have taken 30 years for that to dawn on me. I even had a dream the morning of my birthday where I went out drinking with friends. However, upon waking up that seemed so “empty”. Better I spend the birthday with the people who actually created me, right? HA

One good thing though—and there is almost always a bright side and I can almost always be counted on to find it—is supposedly my dad got me a new cookware set for my birthday! He still has it since on my birthday he was out doing—something, somewhere, with somebody that I’m still not old enough to know about—and couldn’t get it to me.

I am a lesbian. I am a feminist. I am one of those girls who dressed in black a lot in high school (and when I was going through some “thangs” a few years ago). If I get into a fight with a man (and I have) he might beat me and over power me–but he will loose a finger, his eye ball, and his manhood in the process. I deliver a hell of a head butt too and fighting fair means “don’t fuck with me to begin with”, so sharp objects and blunt instruments are all fair game (hence the absolute joy I feel at still being here after 30 years). Yep, on the surface I’m one of “those” chicks…but–OMG!—I love to cook, I’m well trained in party decorum and formal dinner hosting and whenever I get in the mood. I visit blogs by happy Christian homemakers to get tips on doing laundry. And family management. And raising kids.

I am the dream of the patriarchy gone terribly wrong. I understand the concept of family, nurturing, building a safe/beautiful/comfortable home. I show love through food. I like to pamper my lover with words and actions. I love the idea of raising children and my spouse and I growing old together, forming a deep bond and watching our children become adults together.

But the whole husband thing? What shit sucking sadomasochist thought up that idea!?! When I was a kid I never wanted to learn to cook or do any of that stuff because my mother refused to stop mentioning these “husband” creatures. I was a comic book geek, the Asian guy who owns the comic book store near my old stomping grounds is practically an uncle to me..I had a bit of a porn addiction too. Yet, despite the overwhelming evidence of my homosexuality (lol) I was still suppose to learn to cook, clean, be pretty and lose all of that “personality” jazz so that one of these husband creatures would think I was the pride of the puppy pound, put a collar and leash on me, attach me to our (his) home where I’d pop out his children, nurture the whole lot of them, father and spawn, until they managed to suck every bit of my soul out through my nostrils. Oh, dare to dream! Can I have the sign up sheet for this?

There’s an organization out there called “Men going their own way”. Supposedly there is a group of men who decided they never want to get married because marriage is SOOO unfair to men (I mean they have to put the collar and leash on…not like us selfish gals will do it ourselves!). I will say here I completely support MGTOW. I support them so much on their nobel quest to leave women the hell alone that I would like to create and office sister organization called “Fuck You, Go Away” or FYGA . I think marriage is a GREAT idea, but having a husband? Well that just spoils it for everyone don’t it?

I don’t really believe that this homemaker/child rearing ambition of mine is something that is genetically encoded into me because I’m a woman. And I cannot –STAND–when a man treats the acts I do out of joy and love–as if it is my fucking duty to him. I do what I do for my lovers–for my family–because that’s the kind of person I am. It makes me happy to make them happy. In my first and last relationship with a man, as soon as my work went unappreciated and filtered through the male supremist, macho, bullshit of “What do you want? A prize? You’re a woman that’s what your suppose to do.” That sucker got launched with all the fire of a burning space rocket. ZOOOOOOOOMMMM!!! Life is too short to I cannot deal with that BS. I don’t know how so many women do it.

And what about this whole socks and boxers on the floor spiel? According to men if they come home from a hard days work their wives shouldn’t nag them if they drop their clothes all over the floor. Of course, these are the same assholes who wish to have “stay-at-home” wives. But if she is a stay-at-home wife then her HOME is her JOB. So for some guy to come in and just drop his crap all over the place it’s like undoing her day of work. It’s like CHRIS ROCK said in the movie “Down to Earth”.

“Bothering me on the job? Do I come to your job and bother you? Do I kick the squeegee out of your hand?”

With women it is a different story. If I do anything nice for my lesbian lovers it’s never a “she’s a woman, she’s suppose to” type of thing. There is usually some form of gratitude there and even if there isn’t (since all women are different) at least she’s lacking that whole male entitlement attitude. If I cook I do so out of love. If I just talk to you then I’m doing so out of love. Even if me and my lover have a child together (how? Pixies!) and I dote on that child and take a little attention away from her to give to that child, she will better understand that my raising our children is an act of love for her too! Men? Ask the millions of women who’s husbands abandoned them if there husbands thanked them for raising their child. Even if the father didn’t abandon them, even if there was a divorce. How many man thank the woman who is raising their children? Hell! For that matter how many married men do it?!?

I could probably go on and on about the reasons why it ROCKS to be a Lesbian Homemaker. But I do have a tendency to make insanely long post. It’s late and I want to cruise allrecipes some more before bed. Suffice it to say though it gives me much pleasure to know that I’m having my cake and eating it too. I get to be the homemaker I’ve always fantasized about, without having to suck cock to do it! Ladies and gentlemen life doesn’t get any better then this!

[Via http://shesadandy.wordpress.com]

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

I hate to say that I told you so, but I told you so

Within the past few days, a lot has happened (really? Never would have thought…)

Let’s see, tennessee went off without a hitch. =D Saturday and the days following I found myself in the same mess as always with Shay–she wouldn’t leave me alone. She began texting me like she wasn’t  apart of what the UTSA crew–like she hadn’t heard exactly what I said to her. Finally after round and round of bullshit, I had just had enough and told her to essentially take her life and constant drama and stick it. She got defensive, which was normal considering I was pretty mean, and told me that I was the constant sturrer of drama. HA! Really? Because I know I’m dramatic and I tend to be overemotional at times, but I never go looking for danger. I learned that from Lion King (Thanks Disney!). I listed all the ways she’s proceeded to bring drama in my life, and she hasn’t talked to me since. I’m pretty stoked about that. (I know, I’m an asshole…so are yankees. Not my fault)

WHOA. NEWSFLASH. Cute girl just walked into ACC student lounge. The hell? There are no cute girls here…life must be getting better…

Anyway, I’m going on a camping trip in two weekends. Weird, yes? I thought so, but it’s Cassidy’s birthday weekend. It will be me, Cass, her daughter (2.5 yrs), and Suzzette. It will be quite the adventure. But as I near the actual camping trip, I get more and more nervous. I keep getting a mixed, encrypted signal from her. Last night I could barely sleep because of the ideas circling my head like voltures in the desert. Do I get her a birthday present that says, “I actually listen to what you talk about”?  In which case, I’d get her two philosophy books. She always talks about how she wanted to be a philosophy major. Makes sense right? adklgja;grkwjeg’aprogjagj RAWWWRRRRRR…if I was a DUDE this would hardly be an issue. I could just be like, “I want to date you.” and it wouldn’t be awkward. It’s expected that guys do stupid shit. So if I pulled a stunt like that and it backfired, I’d still get the reputation of a “good guy” WIN-WIN. But nooooooooooo. Believe me, I love being a girl. It’s just times like these where it becomes more and more of a problem.

And it’s not that I want anything for certain. I’m just trying to decode all these classified thoughts she’s got locked away in her brain. I want to know more about her and her life, but I’m finding it more and more difficult. We hardly ever talk unless either of us really need something. For instance when I came home Sunday, she texted me asking if I could bring her food ’cause she was absolutely starving. I told her I was about an hour and a half out, but if it was okay I’d still bring it to her. She began to deny my attempts, but I said, “I’d just hate to know you’re gonna be hungry. Are you positive you don’t want me to bring you something?” She then caved and said, “Well, since your strong armed me “

Maybe it’s just because she’s a girl…a pretty girl…a pretty mysterious girl…that she’s got me wrapped around her finger. I. Don’t. Know.

The Used’s new cd is fantastic, by the way.

[Via http://katiedawson.wordpress.com]