Sad Beasty.

So I found a fantastic blog (that I am reading the archives for right now) and she doesn't update anymore.

Bla (c) Kademic I am really sad she's not updating anymore.

Really sad.

If you read nothing else go read this entry and watch the clip of Nikki Giovanni. I would lay at Nikki Giovanni's feet if I thought I could glean some knowledge through her toes. Seriously.

Reading about some of the shit that people said to Ms. Nubian it makes me pretty thankful that my sandbox is pretty small here and truthfully hardly anybody reads it. That's pretty okay with me. Most of the people who wind up here get here from random google searches (which cracks me the hell up) so I don't get a lot of targeted harassment.

Since DX died I don't get a quarter of the random weird comments/emails. And insanely I've never gotten the racist card pulled on me. Homophobes? Check. "Concerned" religious folk? Check. Random weirdos who ask to see my boobs, "prove" myself to them in some weird way, other weird sexual requests. Check.

But not so much of that anymore.

All this of course leaves me feeling more than happy to say whatever the fuck I want.

A fantastic feeling.

So I've decided that I am not going to read comments in any of the blogs I read anymore for the most part. Mainly because I find myself saying a lot of the time, are you shitting me?

Or um, wot? WHUT?

So I am stopping. It's not worth the annoyance and whatnot.

Also I think I need to change my blog list that I read around a bit. I find myself doing a little too much eye rolling. I don't want to read things that only annoy me or make me want to know, who cut off your sense of humor?

Enough of that.

I am trying to work on a project for work and honestly my brain fu must be broken. Also my photoshop skills. Good LORD. Ever just want to remove your brain, dunk it in hot water and see if that helps dislodge the sludge in it?

While I'm talking about brain sludge ever have one of those moments where you look at another human being and just sort of blink? Ever had someone else's stupidity make you go um..wait you...uh...WHAT?

The other day while I was waiting for the bus I listened to this apparently serious conversation between two people. Their main thrust was how intolerable riding the bus is because "they" are on it. When the bus pulled up I discovered that the "they" these two geniuses were probably talking about were you know. average people.

They did that thing that if you use public transportation I know you've seen. The purse clutch, slight nose wrinkle then the wide eyed looking around in horror because they might have to sit in a seat with someone not wearing expensive clothes. I just shook my head.

Some people really should just buy a fucking car.

OH before I forget I don't know if I mentioned that I was having a hell of a time finding some shoes to go with my fabulous party dress for the office Christmas party. Sunday Uniballer and I went to Target and I found shoes.

I was really torn between some fantastic snakeskin print high heeled boots from Payless and some adorable round toed bow having wedges from Target. The wedges won out mainly because I know I'll wear them again. I'm still a little torn between fishnets and some other kind of fabulous hosiery.

So far the outfit looks like this:



The earrings and the hosiery may change I have yet to make up my mind.

As for hair and make up I just learned how to flat iron my hair so I might go with a lovely little chignon and a swoop of bangs that are pinned so they don't quite get too much in my face. Make up, I'm thinking very dramatic big smokey eyes and some sexy super glossy nude/pinkish lips.

I am very in love with the Mac lipglass Bare Fetish. Alone it's really lovely but paired with my Avon lipstain in Bitten it is fabulous. My only gripe is that lipglasses are so freaking thick. Thick and sticky and I don't like that so much.

My trick for super wet vinyl shine and wearability without weird sticky mouth is to put a little layer of this super cheap clear lipgloss I got from Walgreens.

I think I am about spent. I have soup to eat and tea to make.

Goodnight folks.

Oooh wait before I go let me pimp my hair journal real quick like. If you were ever curious about how this black woman (who started out not knowing what to do) goes about learning to care for her hair read it. I also do some product reviews, post recipes for DIY hair treatments that can be good for anybody. I'm the Fluffy Lover.

Fluffy homo Out.

Stumble It!

Links and whatnot.

Lots of whatnot today.

Still feeling crappy in the over tired, over cranky, feel puffy and gross kind of way. Also I have discovered that my body hates cold medicine and fights back with gastrointestinal distress, breakouts and random heartburn.

So links:

Monk made a very delicious post about spanking today. NSFW clearly and I agree that he is in fact dreamy.

Margaret Cho (who is one of my favorite people) has some really fantastic tattoos and her latest is really lovely go look here.

What else?

Oh I've been playing on Make Up Alley and wrote some new reviews go read them here. If you have to be a member to see those tell me.

What else?

I've been feeling strangely invisible lately. Or rather, like I have no impact on anything. Which is probably due more to me being sick, over tired and ay inside my own head. I go through this sort of thing with some regularity at least once or twice a year.

Usually this is precipitated by illness or the aforementioned over tiredness, then I dig in and let my brain spin. This time around most of my issue is this: quite honestly I am just not able to do a lot of things I enjoy and it makes me miserable.

I get myself all riled up because I want to do this that and the other thing, then i want to be able to write about it, blablablabla. The truth is I'm biting myself in the ass with this and I need to stop.

What else?

OH I've had a bit of a personal break thru in terms of my body. Like most other human beings I know I am on and off with how I feel about my body. I realized the other day while I was getting naked, ok I digress here but I highly recommend this if you can, as soon as you get home take it all off. Srsly. More on that in a minute, anyhow I was getting naked and I realized that yes, I am finally and actually okay with how my body has changed.

This isn't really about weight but rather the distribution of it. In the last five years or so my body shape has changed a lot. I've had to relearn how to dress my body and now, oh HAY I'm all right with it.

Ok back to the naked.

I have a problem dissociating from my body and not enjoying it. I started spending probably inordinate amounts of time bucky naked. Chances are, if I'm at home I'm naked. Or naked with a cardigan on, or just socks. I'm not going to sit here espousing how "liberating" and whatnot it is. But I will say that spending so much time naked has taken a lot of those moments of "OMFGWTFBBQ!!1!!!" is that my ass, away.

If you can't spend tons of time naked I also highly recommend after bathing, be naked then. Make your booty shiny with some nice cream or lotion. Sit around let it sink in. It feels very luxurious.

What else?

Oh I have decided that I really do actually want to get a tummy tattoo. I've been planning a memorial tattoo to my friend who passed away a decade ago and wanted the words Bad Motherfucker, tattooed on my left side.

Okay backstory quickly. Pete was a junkie who committed suicide. It was bad. The reason I want Bad MotherFucker instead of say flowers, butterflies or some shit is because of the following memory of him which is one of my favorites.

He and I were hanging out in one of the parks the hobos and drunks hang out in, lolling in the grass drinking coffee. I forget now how the conversation started but, the punchline is that Pete jumped up off the ground, ran around me in a circle flailing his arms and screaming: "She's a BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD MOTHERFUCKER" I laughed until I almost peed.

So I think I will get that on my stomach rather than my side because I have a short torso and don't want the words squished. I've been looking for line drawings of hypodermic needles (he and I shared a fairly sick sense of humor) or something like that because I know it'd make him smile.

OH MY GOOD LORD burn my goth card right now I am jiggle my ass in my chair to the new Britney album.

Good lord.

what else?

I'm babbling because I am really tired. And keep busy=don't pass out under desk.

I am going to do the challenge I saw over at Every Woman Has an eating Disorder with color commentary of course:


Inspired by April's challenge, posed here--Eight Things I Like About My Body:

1. My boobs. For sheezy. We all know I loves me some boobies. However, I love mine most of all. D Cups of Chocolate Doom.
2. The color of my skin. I love it. I am brown fabulousness.
3. My hands/nails. I love the shape of my fingers and my long nails.
4. My ham. Truth is I used to hate my big, slightly out of proportion thighs. I have come to love them. Big, kinda jiggly, and shaped like whoa. I love My. HAM.
5. My booty. My poor little half a badonkadonk. I am lacking in the ghetto booty but goddamn the right pants and it's cute. Also, naked very cute. Cute enough that Uniballer quite literally kisses and/or nibbles on it daily.
6. My wrists. I have finely turned wee wrists and I love them.
7. I love the inside of my knee. It's soft and I don't know why but I love it.
8. And lastly? My big dead sexy brains. I love my brain it makes me TEH HOTNESS.

The verdict on the Britney album. Cheesy effects, some bouncy beats, her voice not great but she is working it. Decent enough to make me want to go out dancing. Yes it makes me want to get hoochiefied (no crotch shots though) and go shake my shit.

While on the subject of hoochieness I will tellz you internetz, I am one who enjoys the trashy. I don't care what anyone says I find great pleasure in dressing tartily, and (here goes some of my street cred certainly) behave in a less than ladylike manner.

When I say less than ladylike I mean any of the following. Groping, smooching, occasional flashing, the super occasional barfight (I have been involved with 3 and started 2 other ones), loudness, dancing on tables, the dirty dancing, ladies room make outs. Seriously. Granted I am calmer now than I was when I was younger but still.

I like going to strip clubs and fooling stupid straight boys into buying me lap dances.

I have also been known to induce bicuriosity in women who've not really had any. Usually in the form of smooches I will ask for while batting my eyelashes and working the cleavage.

I will hit on your wife. As I've told many men I know. And no not in a jerky way but in a , "I think you are super beautiful" kind of way.

I'm only jerky to few people.

Okay I think I am finally spent.

Going to make my dinner and listen to the new Jay Z album.

Homo Out.

Stumble It!

This will probably not come out right.

I am an annoyed fat girl.

For reasons aside from that I'm sick.

That said before I launch, let me forewarn you all (all three of you who read this) that I am doped on day time *snerk...right* cold medication and working on about 4 hours of choppy fever sleep.

So.

As some of you who read this may know Heidi did a really wonderful guest post over at Shapely Prose awhile back about her WLS surgery.

Today Deniselle (who i don't know but by the way if you see this that is a lovely name) posted a very nice update about how she's doing. See that here at Fatly Yours.

Following that someone who I don't know and who's blog I will say I've never read posted a now deleted really horrible response. Yes I am going to quote a few bits because I find this fucking foul.

I hope you live long enough to become deeply ashamed and horrified by what you've done, and then I hope you forgive yourself, and take on the task of warning others to not make the same obscene mistake.

Ok. In whatever context, that is not an ok thing to say to someone for whatever reason. That is a shit thing to say. Isn't that EXACTLY the same kind of moralizing shaming behavior so many people in the Fat Acceptance world have been struggling against and are struggling against?

Are you fucking serious?

The entirety of the post is still available on the Fatosphere feed and I have to say I read it three or four times and I am appalled.

If that is how you treat other people, other human beings fuck you I don't want to be at your party.

The entire response was uncalled for and plain cruel.

Granted I am in fact a newb, I haven't been here for 25 years. However if after 25 years I ever, say anything like that to another human being I will turn in my card and call it a day.

Moving on. I don't think I want to talk about that anymore. It makes my skin crawl.

Actually yes I do but not as it relates specifically to that post.

I think what set me off about it is that years ago my first real exposure to feminism was that same sort of vibe.

I call it the No You Don't method. Or the How Dare You Not toe MY line.

I cannot stand that. I cannot palate anyone shoving their agenda down my throat then, being pissed that I spit it on their shoes.

I remember being very young and force fed some bastardized Andrea Dworkin flavor feminism and I was so horrified. These "sisters" did their damnedest to make me ashamed of myself and how I wanted to live my life. They made me start to hate my own heart.

Luckily I threw that off and came out relatively unscathed but friends I had weren't quite so lucky and they were miserable. I don't approve of that.

If that's the kind of party it's going to be I'll stay home and pee in my own sandbox thanks.

None of what I said here is entirely personal. I do want to make that clear. I don't personally know the women involved in any way. Hell, Kell (is that her name? cold meds are whooping my ass) might be a very nice person who behaved badly. Which is fine, shit happens. But I do think it's necessary to let people know when they are being assy.

I am a fan of people telling me when I've said something fucked up. I know how I can be and I like to try at least to check myself for that.

My usual method is to take whatever personal feeling I have about an opinion and ask myself honestly how I would feel and if it's fair to say to myself. For instance if I say, "You are a pea hater and you cannot be in my pro vegetable group" I would say it to myself, kick myself out of the group for a minute. Then probably realize that whatever I said or was thinking of saying wasn't productive and move on.

Also as I've said before I do have a weak spot for standing up for the other voices in any given conversation. I don't like to call it devil's advocate, rather a diversity of opinion. I think any "movement" would curl up and die if everyone thought the exact same thing, in the same parameters.

I really don't like people getting hushed up or shuttled off for not being on the party line. It ruffles my feathers the absolute wrong way.

Ok enough of that.

In fabulous news I purchased some clothing from a lady over at Inbetweenies on LJ and ZOMG love.

I purchased a fantastic black basic halter dress and it is the hot motherfucking sex. All I need now are some hot shoes and hot accessories.



Those are the shoes/styles I am considering. I have no idea about jewelry yet or hair.

I am leaning towards closed toe now so i can wear some hot ass hosiery that Uniballer will be forbidden from biting and/or tearing. He has a bad habit of tearing lingerie.

Um I think that's really all. I feel like stepped in poop and I have another hour and fifteen minutes of work. Then home, spicy beef, drugs, Unreal Tournament then sleep. Rinse, repeat all weekend.

Homo Out.

Ps... I want ice cream so bad right now I could stab someone. I must be stopped I don't need the lactose intolerance along with the cold.

Note to self, NO ice cream kthnksbai.

Stumble It!

Not all here yet.

I'm not entirely back up to fully functional so you get fluff.

Which means, clothes and boobs.

First though let me welcome new readers.

I'm Shannon, your insane hostess. The quick cast here, Me: AKA Beasty, Muse, WeeBeasty, Fluffer. Uniballer: AKA One Hung Low, Byootiful. So called Uniballer because he only has one testicle. Srsly. Cookie: AKA My Fucking Road Dog. My Bitch. My fantastic lady who I love like you don't even know and who likes to admire my boobies and fondle them in public. Um...various other people.

I generally blog from work. I like porn. I like boobs. I am a wee bit of a boot whore and will probably turn tricks for the right make up.

I am fat. And let's pause there. I am what has come to be known as an Inbetweenie. Generally speaking in pants my ass likes a Torrid size 12. Tops it really depends on how hoochie I want to be. The D Cups of Doom make this possible. In realm of the Fatosphere, I'm on the low end of the totem pole as far as size and readership which is ok with me. Sometimes I talk about things that other fat bloggers (at least from what I've seen) don't. You won't find studies or science here because I'm not really into it.

I will talk about clothes because I love clothes, make up, underpants, my own ass, my boobs, big girls representing in the adult area of the interwebs, and or whatever else crosses my mind about fatness.

I am also an author who will occasionally pimp writings. I love books. I love music. And if you like pina coladas, and walks in the rain please try the next ad. Pina coladas make me puke.

I'm absolutely so goth I was born black. I will sometimes say things about race that make people cringe. If you're stupid, willfully stupid I will be mean to you. I don't censor or remove comments like ever. However, it's been a few years since I've had a troll so time may tell.

So onto clothes.

I am in dire need of shirts and quite frankly I'm having serious trouble finding ones I like. I don't want shit like ruffles, sparkles, things dangling from my tits on them. I Do. Not. Want. What I want are workable plain black, burgundy, purple, other jeweltones and maybe red shirts that are stretchy and last.

I think a trip back to Target is in order for more of their Long and Lean tanks for layering and maybe a trip to Old Navy for some of their shirts.

There are also some fancier tops that I want from Lip Service however I'm going to have to scour the intertubes for them because every single one I want is sold out at the store in XL or XXL. Annoying.

I recently joined the Lip Service Forums and I urge you big booty having folks to joint too. Represent people. I want bigger sizes of fucking Lippy back. I'm more than tired of trying to squeeze it into stuff or deciding if I can wear a cincher with something to make it fit. I can FINALLY fucking afford some Lippy and I am thwarted by not being skinny. Fuck that right in the goat ass.

Did I mention I curse a lot?

Moving on I am already on the hunt for something to wear to the office Christmas party. Last year I looked pretty damn cute in my stompy goth outfit. I wore this Tripp waitress/schoolgirl black dress I've had for years and years, some fancy brown (same shade of brown as me) tights, my fantastic Buckle Whore Demonia boots. I also got dressed in the dark because there was that horrible storm and we had no power. This year however I want fancier.

I'm a little torn but I think I want to build an outfit based on this Malco Modes skirt from um....shit wait. HA check it, this is the base. I want the skirt in black and the petticoat most likely in either purple or maybe some other color.



You get the gist though. With a cincher, probably not that one though. But that is the idea there.

With either my hot as hell patent knee high lace up boots or some other equally sexy shoe. I want to look fucking fancy.

I have no problem flying my freak flag at company functions. These people have seen me with the infamous (and much mourned) bright purple buzzcut. So sad I miss that hair even though the upkeep drove even your very own uber Femme o' doom insane.

Speaking of hair I am tempted to get Goddess Braids for the party too. Or maybe some kind of fancy weave.

That reminds me I'm keeping a hair care blog as well. I am -very- into learning how to care for my hair and retain growth. That can be read here. It's been a hard learning process.

I'm seriously about spent. Miss Poison I'll be contacting you soon. I'm a little brain dead just now.

Time to go and um..drink tea and window shop on the intertubes I'm exhausted.

Homo Out.

Tags: boring, clothes, random poop, WTF, big girl love, fat

Stumble It!

OW my brains.

I sort of have the dumb today and can't really brain in the fashion I'm accustomed to so stay with me in case I start to wander.

So far this Monday (it's totally Tuesday now) I have decided to no longer go to a favored online community because, I see a little too much fat hate and I just don't have the energy to argue with people I think are fucking stupid.

I have also spilled tea, discovered I did not actually bring the correct vitamins etc with me nor did I remember to put my pedometer on my pocket.

From yet another fancy LJ community I got a link to get myself a free pedometer because I could not find the fancy one I had. I got it in this silly Dole sponsered kit thing with a pamphlet and lots of literature extolling me to eat more of their products. However the pedometer has led me to some interesting things.

I discovered that even on a "lazy" day I typically walk about 3.5 miles all together. That is actually a bit more than I thought honestly. I thought I'd top out around maybe 1-1.5 miles and was pleasantly surprised. On a busy day I tend closer to about 5 miles all together.

Not bad for a fat girl with a bad back and shitty knees.

I am still in the process of figuring what my body thinks is too much. For me it's a very fine line as to what will leave me limping and unable to sleep because I'm in pain and what leaves me feeling good.

I really don't want to ever again have the experience of exercising myself to the point of constant pain whether or not I "look" good. Never again.

I found this article via Kate Harding and ye gods. This is the second British lady I've seen do this, the other was a TV show I watched on youtube but good lord. That poor woman.

Just goes to show you, thin doesn't mean good at all. Seriously.

As I said i can't really brain today so I want to share this pair of shoes that I want really -really- bad right now These. OMFG. Holy HELL those are frigging hot.

Where was I?

Everyone go read Heidi's guest post at Shapely Prose. I applaud her for sharing her story. I also really appreciate that someone has a platform to say what a lot of people in the Fat World just do not want to hear.

I hate to say that last bit but it does strike me that all too often those who are in fact debilitated by their fat are shushed or silenced and shamed into not speaking out in their own defense. Or if not defense then maybe on their own behalf because all too often any mention that isn't "positive" gets that look, the "that's not fat.size positive" etc. I worry about that. I worry because isn't that the sort of moralizing and um..(sorry still a little brain dead here) proselytizing for lack of a better term that a lot of people want to get away from?

I really wonder sometimes how many people there are like Heidi but who don't have somewhere like Shapely Prose to speak. Or who don't have connections to the "name" blogs or blogging communities. Where are you? What do you need to say? Who are you? Are you all right?

I want to know.

I have no idea who actually reads this anymore so feel free to remain anonymous if you want to.

What else?

I am as I have always been I think more interested in the stories people tend to not tell. The things they don't say for whatever reason. Especially when it the less popular view of something. I don't know why I've always had that soft spot but it's there.

OH I wanted to tell you all about one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen up close bar none. There was a lady who used to go into the library my Mom worked at for years who is, really astonishingly beautiful. Beautiful in the way that people stare gawping because she is gorgeous. And she is, yes fat.

I saw her dressed up fancy in business suits, and kicking it casual in sweats and no make up and she is just stunning. I met her when I was 18 and was so instantly smitten with her it's just not funny. Even now I get very shy and nervous around people I think are insanely beautiful and I was so cowed by her I'd sort of skulk around so I could peek at her through the shelves at the library.

It too me probably a good six months of covert staring to finally work up the nerve to talk to her. I waited for her to leave the library, marched up and sort of blurted (it was very teen movie-ish) something like "you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and um, yer pretty by" at which point I turned to try and scuttle off, blushing like a school boy.

She stopped me and said thank you, and she blushed which killed me. We had a really nice conversation where I made very clear I wasn't hitting on her just that I thought she was beautiful and should hear it. Often. The one thing that stands out in my memory about her was the gracious way she handled the effusive compliments. That was a huge lesson for me. Prior to that compliments I viewed as probably sketchy and not generally warranted when directed towards me.

From her I learned to take them with a smile.

I ran into her a few years after that and met her equally gorgeous husband and she gave me a hug and told me how I'd grown up to be gorgeous.

While I'm on the subject of beauty. The very first person to ever make me feel truly like a thing of beauty was a drag queen I met randomly during pride week when I was 19.

At that age I was single and as they say fancy free and had bought this killer slightly absurd outfit for Pride. I had these fantastic black jean cut pants that I wore to goddamn death because they looked amazingly hot on me, paired with a cami style tank top in black lace with an actual brown skin color lining (that is so hard to find you'd think nobody ever heard that brown can be a skin color too but that's a whole other entry) with wait for it.....huge maribou trim all around the sweetheart neckline that then trailed down the half open back. And it had a very subtle bit of shiny sequin ish things to it. I paired this with these fantastic platform heels I had, and huge almost afro like hair. The hair was only accomplished by spending about a week before hand in very tight and uncomfortable corn rows.

I will suffer for fashion.

I was also super into glitter on my face. Don't ask.

So all decked out I wandered up to Capital Hill to shop and mingle. I was stopped dead on the sidewalk, twirled and groped by a probably 7 foot tall drag queen who pronounced me the most beautiful actual girl in the vicinity and gifted me with sparkly sunglasses and a fairy wand thing.

It was silly and I was still essentially a baby but, I really felt wonderful and beautiful and probably for the first time like I'd done the whole femme thing right.

The following summer was also the Summer of the Magenta Sequined Mini Skirt.

No I'm serious. You're very own bat cave dwelling supa Goth wore the hell out of a sequined bright magenta mini skirt. I found it crammed in a purse at Good Will (a trick I've pulled myself to save something to get later on). I imagine it was probably a home made part of a drill team or dance team costume. Short A line with this cute keyhole ribbon closure on the front. It was pretty atrocious. Tacky and bright and I wore that shit frequently. Usually paired with a black tank top and my trusty black platform walkin sandals.

There are times my friends, when I make absurd fashion choices mainly because they make me happy and I could really give a fart what any one else thinks.

If I like it, I will probably wear it. Although I am really thankful Uniballer talked me out of this fugly fucking dress I was obsessed with. Does anyone really need a dress with neon colored candy print?

Not really.

Ok enough yammering.

I'm going to look for winter boots. I will report tomorrow. Also, if I find the right pair of boots I may give this whole skinny jeans thing a try. If I can find a pair that will accommodate my ham. I may jam out with my ham out but I refuse to have my ham be uncomfortable.

Homo Out.

Tags: fat, affirmations, body, WTF, hotness

Stumble It!

Holy Crap.

So first of all before I start frothing about the first time I've ever enjoyed a majority of the new line from Torrid I want to talk about something I saw Zuzu say.

"Call me crazy, call me a Republican ex-gay anti-feminist trying-to-pass-for-white-South-African, but I think a social-justice movement has better things to do than root out Impure Thoughts. And I think it has a lot better things to do than to deny its members agency."

That is very much how I feel about almost any movement I may or may not get involved with. Like a few other people I seriously take issue with the stance that no one can do something, because that's just how it is. It chaps my round and perky arse.

Yes, I said round and perky. My black trousers from Torrid make the booty look damn good.

OK.

Did I not earlier this summer (don't ask when I can't recall( talk about my want of trousers and other boy style clothes? What did I find in my email today from Torrid? Trousers and boy style clothes. I am going to have to srsly save up because there are a buttload of new pieces I want.

My torrid wishlist is about to blow up people. Srsly.

Also can we talk about the gorgeous big burly butch I saw earlier today? If you're new here let me tellz you internetz, I have got a big weakness for a big gentlemanly butch. And this one lit my smoke while I was juggling my purse and other crap looking for my lighter. Then winked at me and sauntered away. If I were wearing panties they would've melted clean off.

What else?

Actually not much my day has just gotten a hell of a lot stranger.

Homo Out.

Tags: fat fashion, WTF, nattering

Stumble It!

Moody little bastard.

I really can't blame my mood swings recently on hormones. The truth is I am having the proverbial fucking issues.

Issue #1 (and yes I am getting personal today)

My head is really not into how I'm living my life right now. And the part that is driving me to madness is that right now and for the foreseeable future there's really not anything I can do about it. Most of the reasons are the same that everyone else in the world deals with, I am not a special and unique snowflake in this.

The reasons are mainly financial. It's just not practical for me to even move to working part time to free up time for other pursuits. Even should those pursuits have the possibility of earning income it's not really enough and I am not in a position to take the chance.

Issue#2

I am often just too damn tired at the end of the day for anything much more than a bath, a few pages of a good book and food.

My time for doing creative things (and those are the things that make me happy) is just not there entirely.

Issue#3

I am having continued writing angst. From the fact that I can't seem to get a goddamn thing published to my angst about self publishing.

Other issues.

I'm just not sure what to do about any of it.

So I write.

I kvell.

Currently I'm working on getting content published on Associated Content. More on that if I get something accepted.

I'm also kicking around the idea of putting out a collection of some of my more personal erotica.

And I really just want a nap.

Homo Out.

Tags: random, life, issues

Stumble It!

Actually wait a minute..what the blue fuck..

So I was just reading Susie Bright's blog and found this tidbit.

No go read it I'll wait.

Done?

Ok, say it with me now. What the BLUE fuck is wrong with people?

Is it really necessary for "concerned" parents to shield their of legal age children from reading about sex now?

Also you absolutely need to read the interview and watch the video at The Atlantic.

She makes several good points excellent points actually.

Why does it continue to shock me when I hear about things like this?

I just cannot fathom what would possesses someone regardless of their religious beliefs to need to do that sort of thing. Jesus after that I need to be cleansed.

So if anyone wants to buy this DVD for me feel free. Here's the trailer.



As always I have to wonder again about my affinity for junkies. Aside from the fact that I get it. That is of course a frightening thing but, I can take it in all reality.

Also everyone should read the book Nick Cave is reading from here. It's dense and gorgeously written. I'm not usually quite so into poetic imagery in a novel but it's worth it.



I seriously just had myself a crotch tingling fantasy about listening to Nick Cave read to me from Ovid's Art of Love I totally couldn't help myself.

While I'm making illicit use of Nick Cave's voice (his music is on permaplay while I write most of the time) can we talk about the fact that I have a huge voice fetish?

Another video, sorry I'm cleansing my brain palate of the shit I read earlier.



The beat of that song+Mc. Cave's voice makes me twitchy in the groinal area. If I was still a stripper I would probably subject people to me writhing around onstage to that song. IF I ever get actually good at belly dance I might try to choreograph to this song.

Let's talk about belly dance.

When I grow up I think I want to be the supergoth tribal nutcase style. Yes I did in fact just make up par of that moniker.

I also would like to dance to this song. Warning TOTAL fucking mood change here.



I won't even start about my serious lack of video girl type booty. I'll save that for another day.

Ok I feel better now. I'm going to booty shake at my desk until it's time to go home or something breaks. Whichever comes first.

Homo really Out.

Stumble It!