Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Squeee

I just did something really dorky that involved a fan letter.

Good lord.

No sleep just shreds what inhabitions I actually have.

I also was reminded by someone really really special to me. Two someones actually, anyhow I was reminded that I am well loved. And I appreciate that from the depths of my soul.

I tend to be very emotionally tipsy and fragile when this tired. I'm either full of those unshed shiny tears movie screens love or, I'm stabby and want to do violent things to people.

It's a toss up.

So in order to take my mind off of teariness/stabbiness let's talk about Gay Pride shall we?

If you've known/followed me for a few years I fucking LOVE the gay pride. To say I whore it up at gaypride is kind of an understatement. If there was more than one big GayPride celebration a year I'd need an intervention.

Because of the celebratory nature of Pride I will make with the serious random fondling/smooching/groping/makingout/boobyshowing. It's happened folks. There are probably photos somewhere to prove it.

(Sorry Rusty this isn't the BAM there's my titty post).

That's not to say I'm not equally as feel up friendly at other times but Pride is special. Where else could I ever have a someone elses leather boys on a leash and lead them down the sidewalk and have people clap not just point and whisper?

This year I'm not sure how much of the proverbial uber partying Byootiful and I will get to do. My schedule fucking sucks. I think we might make the Friday night opening but there is something else we are promised for.

So yeah.

I'll let everyone in on a little secret. And yes I know this is SO fucking cliche but I want to go to pride in San Francisco. But come on man.

SF MOTHAFUCKIN PRIDE.

I just got such a hard on.

I have to be honest I would probably just blow RIGHT up.

Finally the Religious Right could say that gayness killed someone because I would have a Homoexcitement induced fucking stroke.

I would have to be supervised like an heiress set loose on a nude beach with a snootful of who knows what.

Someone would have to not only chaperone me, but probably leash and harness me to keep me from scampering off to do who knows what with pervy gay (or mostly gay) people.

And that's considering I'd probably want to be sober for the event.

It's a scary, scary thing people.

I should probably talk about something else before I wet myself.

Just to keep it real everyone should know that I sat here for a full ten minutes with technicolor porno playing inside my head. Porno people. Pansexual dirty perverted porno.

It really doesn't help that I was ogling someone elses ponyboy the other day.

Ugh I'm fucking tired.

So I'm going to save this post and go make some soup and return.

So if you really are not interested in any of my further inane insomniac ravings stop reading right now and go have a quick wank. Go ahead....you deserve it.

I've had soup and taken my vitamins. I feel kind of better in the weeeeeeeeee euphoria stage of sleep deprivation.

I've been seeing all over the net everyone and their grandma is making look books. When I saw the term on a fashion group I was mystefied for a moment. But pretty much it's where you make a scrap book of different clothing/style looks for yourself.

I used to do that as a kid pretty often.

But right now I think it might actually serve as some catharsis. For the past couple of years my body and I have not been getting along. I can honestly say that I'm approaching coming to an agreement with the cranky bitch. I am almost 30 and as we all know, gravity wins.

Not just gravity but your body will decide whether or not it likes what you've been doing and my body has said bitch stop.

I am not built to be a thin woman and I am finally coming to some terms with that. Frankly generally speaking I look stupid if I'm anywhere under a size 10. I could do with some firming up but, I don't look as bad as I thought I did.

So back to this look book thing. I'm putting together one for myself. I'll probably make it a permalink here so I can add to it. I have one big goal and that's to start making the nice clothes I like. So if whatever ubergawthic line isn't made for actual women fuck em. They can't have my business.

I have come to the point where I can comfortably say fuck em. Fuck them right in the goat ass.

So I'm working on that. Maybe once I get the making clothing thing going decently I can either figure out or get over my whole weird obsession with Gothic Lolita. However I'm not all for the super frilly. I think I'm more the puffy skirt and stomp your ass boots sort.

Wow. This all may come across as very manic but it's taken me quite awhile and I think I'm spent now.

So yeah.

Homo Out.

PS email for Miss Page and Pollyland. When I'm not feeling 2 iq points short of our president outwitting me.
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2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hey girl,
I have been brainstorming for weeks, then I thought you might know...
I am looking for a photographer who will take Bettie Page style Pin-up like photos of me including costumage, hair and make-up. I peeked in the yellow pages, I googled, my fingers are soar from surfing...
Can you help? I want to make Andy a Pin-up calandar for next year as a Christmas present & maybe a nice 8x10 for anniversary. Any suggestions would be welcomed.
-Miss Paige

Mistress Natosha said...

Ahhh Gay Pride, I also enjoy it immensely. When I visited Demon(gee, guess who that could be. hehe), we went to the Halloween Parade. I was floored to see all the interesting floats, people, etc. But the best moments were participating. Hmmm, I think I shocked Demon a bit. Cheshire Grin

I also wanted to let you know that I've been a reader of yours for almost two years now and I must say I now know just how special and cool you are.

I hope we can chat very soon.

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