Friday, August 31, 2007

Big Girls Represent! Part Duex

Over at BFD Mo Pie posted the following video.

Now watching that, it's clear she's a damn good dancer. I personally needed no proof to know that big girls can in fact work it. I know for DAMN sure that big girls can get down. Whether it's belly dancing like above, big girl walking it out like a motherfucker or three big girls getting down in the back yard and dropping it like it's hella hot. Fuck the comments. I want to go out dancing with those girls.

Like the song says, Watch Out For the Big Girls. And if you're me you add a mother fucker at the end.

In other annoying news I stumbled on a blog (not going to link it, not worth it) in which every entry is some railing or flailing about fats in food. One gem of an entry that caught my eye was this person taking issue with ascorbic acid. Vitamin C not the sort that's used in photographic chemicals. And yet again I'm stunned. Are you serious? I have to wonder if this person realizes that the lemon juice he/she wants on apples served at Micky D's has ascorbic acid in it too?

Also his/her recipe for a "flat stomach" is absurd. Eating no fat will not give you a magically flat stomach. In fact, there are some people (myself included) who can eat next to nothing, do thousands of crunches and other ab exercises and never, ever have a flat stomach. Some people just are not meant to have the washboard abs and that my fine friends is fucking fine.

This same person is of the mind that certain things should just be banned because they are bad for you. I think that is a patently bad idea. America does not have good luck in legislating morality. Not just that but health is not a moral imperative. Not eating fatty foods is not a moral imperative no matter how rabid you might be about a person being healthy it is not your choice plain and simple.

One of the arguments "against obesity" that constantly evokes an eyeroll from me is the one about how much money it costs everyone else. By that rationale shouldn't people who have issues with genetic abnormalities be prevented from having children since if the children inherit those, it will cost "everyone" more? Or what about people who have diseases that are genetic?

People rarely stop to think about what they are really saying, nor do they look to see how far down the rabbit hole goes. I don't like to be an alarmist about it but, the truth is once you start chipping away at personal choice and getting into other peoples business, where does it stop? We see it all the time.

These days people feel it's perfectly ok to comment on another person's body with a sense of ownership. Why? Because it's allowed, it's chic.

I'm kind of all over the place here don't mind me. Internet is gettin me.

Ok I'm derailing that train of thought right now.

And I have some links.

How often have you looked at boobs? Not airbrushed pumped up porn star boobs, but normal every woman boobs? You should check out this website. Clearly, that's not work safe. If you are having one of those "oh my GOD my boobs are ugly" moments, look and love.

I also really like the website The Shape of a Mother. There are photos of bodies of women who've had children and are pregnant. A beautiful place.

And finally Bellies Are Beautiful. All sorts of bellies. I may send in a pic of mine.

That's it. Uniballer has tasty pork treats for me and I want my damn dinner.


Homo Out.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Things that crack me up.

As cranky as I generally am there are certain things that never ever fail to leave me gasping for breath laughing.

One of them is chubby happy babies. I was on the bus on my way to work and a woman with this adorable chubby cheeked, dimpled baby boy sat next to me and oh, my, LORD. Not only did he look like a doll with big dark eyes and these amazingly long eyelashes he was very happy, and decided to spend most of the time they were on the bus flirting with me.

He batted his eyelashes, smiled a big gummy maybe two tooth smile, babbled, pointed, drooled and all round was very very charming. His Mom was adorable too and kept blushing but I told her I didn't mind talking to her baby and that I think he's beautiful.

I will also spend hours on youtube watching baby laugh videos. There is one that I swear every time I watch it I about piss myself laughing.

Given that I have the love for the wee and portly, the crawling drooling poop machines known as human babies I actually have no desire to have one of my own. I love kids but plan on having none. I'll borrow other peoples when I get the jones for baby cuddles and milk breath.

Ok off of the subject of crawling drooling ankle chewing creatures and onto one of my favorite subjects, clothes.

If you've been reading for awhile you'll know that Torrid and I have a rocky relationship. That bitch is mean to me sometimes. I say bad things about her, she taunts me. It's a vicious cycle.

However, we had a beautiful and romantic moment in the form of a gigantic sale.

I bought....wait for it.....pants.

I know I know I had that whole moratorium on wearing pants but I found the secret to pants from Torrid. I need anything low rise. The regular rise comes up under my fucking tits.

I got myself a pair of dark wash boot cut low rise jeans, one pair black trousers, one pair black denim pin stripe capri pants (i cannot believe I actually like those), and two cami tops. For 45 dollars which is, unheard of. And I am excited.

However I am not in love with the fall line. Into the Woods I am from Seattle people, I coudl live and not see anymore fucking flannelish plaid. I don't hate plaid but really, come on now.

I do love some of the individual pieces from this line. I"m loving the richness of the brown stuff. I might have to get me some of that. Cause, chocolate on chocolate is sexy.

Granted take my opinion about these things with a grain of salt since I am still one with the goth side of the force.

Which leads me to my absolute amusement that people have been using some of my pieces on PolyVore. How cool is that? I find it very cool.

What else?

OH I've been experimenting with some new make up lately. I am starting to grow some love for Avon products. I've been using their Avon Transforming liquid. It's a similar product to Urban Decay's Eyeshadow transforming potion. Basically both products can turn any powder shadow into a liquid liner. The Avon is totally about 12 dollars cheaper and works wonderfully.

I am really enjoying using it and am looking forward to November/December when I am going to go on a cosmetics rampage. Actually I probably won't do that. I'll most likely continue my uber bargain hunting and occasional orders to Fyrinnae.

I also need to stock up on brushes which I'll probably get from ELF cosmetics (I am an affiliate for them if you shop there pretty please click the link down there) I like their brushes and the price is great. They have lasted me a lot longer than I thought they would.

And now confession time. I really really am over the summer already. I want my fucking foundation back. Why? Because I'm vain and I like looking all hot and brown and velvety not hot and brown and greasy spotty.

i am ready for boot wearing cool weather and make up that hasn't sweated off by the time I get to work.

I think that's all I am a tired cranky little fucker.

Homo Out.


Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Breathe Deep.......FIRE.

Ok I have some things to talk about.

I finally got some sleep. And I am drinking a huge cup of tasty iced coffee. The only iced coffee drink I like is a vente (that's 20 oz for you coffee noobs) iced Americano with a half shot of vanilla. That's it.

Now that I am breathing, I am caffineated, I am prepared to quote the goat from Hoodwinked.

Fat girls, yes I am talking to you ladies. We need to talk.

You know I love you right? Of course I do. I want you to be healthy and happy. What I am not digging however is the number of you getting your hate on. You know who you are.

I watched a bit of Joy Nash's Fat Rant on Youtube (no links, if you can't google that you need a new hobby) and I watched some of the response videos. If I see one more cutie pie double chinned diva start out with the sentiment that "I'm SO tired of skinny girls" or the like. Mama is going to hand out some whoopings.

This is not ok behaviour. It is not cute, it is not the stance of an empowered enlightened fully functional woman. This my loves, is douche baggery. As we ALL should know by now that feeling good about yourself does not mean you get to run rampant being an asshole. And yes, it counts as being an asshole.

Regardless of your weight putting other people down is not a good thing to do. Also really, you're not helping the cause when you do that. Especially if you're working any sort of Size Acceptance angle. Size acceptance does not mean only the people your size it means everyone.

Can we agree that being a dickhead is just not going to cut it?

Next up.

The pink thing. I read about this via Ms. Sara over at F-Words, there is some study that says that women prefer pink. Read that at Reuters here. For the record, I personally have never been a lover of pink. Even as a little girl the only pink things I loved were my Strawberry Shortcake dolls and my Strawberry Shortcake record player. And I really don't care about this issue.

Actually let me restate that, I don't see why it's important to spend money on. I don't know how it works in the UK but in the US people get grants for this sort of thing. I really don't give a good goddamn who prefers what color and why. Really I don't, aren't there like 9 million other more important things a person could study?

I'm no expert but that seems silly to me. And then to debate it seems, yes silly.

I totally blame the lovely Ms Rotund for this next thing. I blame her entirely. I blame her for enabling me to get all addicted to Polyvore. You can make little photo collages of outfits and I fucking love it. Go look at some of mine. I think I like it even more than I like Stylehive and you all know how much I love Stylehive.

I find it even more amusing since one of my sets got a comment of "eww" from some random person. That made me giggle.

So go look at that and behold how I would dress if it weren't for things like weather, finances and whatnot.


I was going to talk about underwear but I suddenly don't really feel like it since I'm not actually wearing any.

OH wait I bought some stuff from the enormo Torrid sale going on right now. I am going to HAVE PANTS. I'm excited. And since One Hung Low (also known as the Uniballer) found my old semi crapass digital camera there may be photographic evidence of me wearing butt covers. Maybe.

I think that's about it for right now.

Homo Out.

Monday, August 27, 2007

The Bitch is Back...

This is going to be a long fucking entry.

First of all, my not so fantastic web host needs a good deep dicking to move whatever is jammed up it's collective ass.

I do not feel good. My body has turned into a mother fucking warzone.

My bowels got the party started with a lot of constipation/other painful ailments. Then I didn't sleep, then the big cherry on the whole shit pie is that my infidel uterus decided today, was a good day to start shedding matter.

Good news first before I dive headfirst into complaining.

I've been writing articles over at Associated Content and I would be extraordinarily happy if the four of you that read this would check it out, subscribe or even pass on my link to your homies.

I've written two articles so far. One on buying clothes on Ebay and an op ed bit about the Simulation argument.

Here is the link for the Ebay one. Pretty please I don't even care if you don't read it. I'm wanting to make some pennies on page views. So have a looksy at my fantastic profile while you're there too.

How to Buy Clothes on Ebay

Also I will probably be pimping this sort of thing at least once a week or so because that looks to be the limit of my output currently. I'm going to mix how to type articles along with the occasional op ed bit.'

Ok now I feel dirty.


Ok I haven't slept since Sunday and I am fucking nackered. So that's it for now.

Homo Out.


Thursday, August 16, 2007

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.


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.


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.


Tuesday, August 14, 2007

On my Non Participation.

Ok via Kate Harding I found this tidbit on Jezebel.

My first reaction to this story is of course a round "what the BLUE fuck is going on here?" Are you fucking serious?

What the BLUE FUCK is wrong with people?

Ok for the record I don't wear my hair natural and haven't in about 7 years now. I did for awhile, realized I wasn't into it and changed it. My reasoning was not at all political rather that I take better care of my hair when it's straighter. And because I was heartbroken that because of the five different textures of hair on my head I could not wear a proper little afro.

I am more than over hair being turned into a political statement. Done. If it were say thirty years ago or even being charitable fifteen years ago i might buy it but seriously. Just no.

I think the below documentary should be required watching for people who don't get the whole diversity and beauty that is black women:

Further more if you hear people saying things like that, call them the racist that they are. And remind them that White centric beauty is a fucked up idea. Please.

When I was younger early-mid teens I seriously struggled with accepting that my blackness was in fact beautiful. It wasn't really because of a lack of role models. It was more the fact that I often heard the despised phrase, "For a black girl". That phrase haunted me for years. About everything from my body, to my voice, my hair, my beauty.

It hurt me because at the time I didn't have the language to tell people that was a fucked up thing to say. That my blackness does not define me in the terms they thought it did. I hated getting the sidelong looks when someone in the crowd said something sideways but at that age I had no idea how to combat it.

Now, yeah now I will not have it. There is no reason to preface or end any comment to me that even approaches sounding like, "for a black girl" I don't want to fucking hear it.

I have a migraine so I'll leave you with another video.

Also can I just say that I really hate dentistry in general. And why is it so fucking expensive anyway?

Homo Out.
Back then I didn't need to hear that Black is beautiful, what I needed was to see the scope and array of beauty beyond models.


Monday, August 13, 2007

Kinda Sprung now.

OK I just found the blog of the author of Boy Culture (a really fantastic film I just recently watched) and I think I love him.

OK...I want Matthew Rettenmund to be my new gay boyfriend. Right now.

If you are averse to very gay men and some photos of hot mostly nekkid men skip that link.

I want the book. But not the movie tie in version this one.

I miss having a gay boyfriend like you people don't even know.

Who else but a gay man can I say, "You look homolicious now let's go" or yell, "NO PRINCESS BITCH we are NOT PLAYING WITH DRUNK TWINKS"

Come on now.

Of course I can say these things to One Hung Low but it's just not the same.

And who else can I possibly use to maybe pick up on mostly gay boys too? Or smooch on them? Who else would take me into the leather club then leave me to play with random Leather Boys and their Daddy?

Le sigh.

I'm going to pout now.

Which reminds me I have to tell you folks about the GAYEST thing ever.

So I took my then Gay Boyfriend whom we'll call PrincessHotness to the Lusty Lady. I took him because a.)it was on the way to the club we were going to and b.) he'd never really seen pussy up close. So adventure time.

So we go and get like 40$ worth of quarters and went into a booth but were told we had to have our own booths. So he gave me quarters and went next door. The girl that was dancing for him was this adorable little blond with the cutest ever little boobies wearing nothing but red cowboy boots and a matching hat. The girl that was dancing for me hot too. Red haired with very long legs and equally cute boobies. So I'm giggling and flirting with my dancer when I hear PrincessHotness scream (he seriously screamed it was SO gay)


My dancer and his dancer at that point realize we're not a couple that he's gay and start laughing. I start laughing. PrincessHotness runs into my booth, dumps all his quarters in my lap and proclaims that he has to go look at cock right now. They have video booths too.

So I spent all my money then went to retrieve my homo and the girl who'd been dancing for me via lots of sign language indicated to wait outside for her so she could came outside to have a smoke with us. I wound up going on a few dates with her. It was SUPER gay.

That was So. Gay.

This is the same man whom I used to pick out his porn because I have exquisite taste in the gay porn. Not ONE of the DVD's I picked out for him was a bad one. I also got him his first toy. Which he put a hurting on.

Just so you all get it I am less faghag than I am honorary fag. Or actual fag depending on who you are speaking to.

And now I'm spent because I'm about to participate in a study for the Kinsey Institute.

Homo Out.


Friday, August 10, 2007

Oh how you annoy me.

Ok first of all I did not make it to the company bbq due to male slowness and the lateness of the day. I am a little (yes a lot) annoyed about that.

However I am wearing some new make up from Fyrinnae. And as usual ZOMG this shit is the fucking Hot. Sex.

I am wearing a purple shade called Predatory and it is the purple of my dreams. Rich and bright and gorgeous. I used it all over my lower lids with a touch of MAC's French Violet and it is very lovely.

And I must say as far as color payoff and quality Fyrinnae is right up there with MAC in my opinion.

Now onto something I find questionable at best.

Yet again I have been cruising the interwebs and found yet another appalling thing.

I thrift via auctions on the net quite a bit and I keep seeing sizes like 8-10/11-13 being promoted as plus sizes. When the hell did that happen?

Are these people serious?

What the hell is going on here?

Did some memo go out to non fat people at some point that entitles some of them to calling anything over a size 7 a plus size? Um no.

Then I start looking at the size charts of some of the listed manufacturers and found more fuckery in the sizing department. It astounds me that someone who is say a size 8 might have to squeeze it into an XL because some jackass clothing company thinks that's a big size.

Does that make sense?

I just don't understand it.

Why would you do that? Do the people who decide these things just not give a shit about the emotional well being of their customers? Probably not. As long as they get the cash.

This is why all those Dove Adverts do not really impress me in any huge way. For one thing if you look at their "real" women, granted they got some varying skin tones in there and slightly varying body types but really look at those women. I don't see nary a stretchmark, cesarean scar, stubble, cellulite, mussed hair etc. I really don't trust the whole "real" woman thing.

Mainly because it subtly gives the impression that if you don't fit into one of these "real" women boxes you're somehow less than.

I never use that real women have curves bullshit. Same reason.

Also the Dove Campaign bothers me too because aren't they guilty of the sins they are apparently outing?

Can they say their ads with long firm thighs aren't at all airbrushed? Or that the model doesn't have a shitload of body make up on that thigh? Or that the lights aren't just so?

No I doubt they can claim any of that.

I have this same issue when magazines do their "real woman" spreads.

What makes it a tragedy to me is how so many women look to these things for validation.

Please, ladies these fuckers are bullshitting you like a mother fucker.

You're already real. They can fuck off.


Anyway back to make up before I start frothing at the mouth.

I've discovered that I'm actually better with sponge applicators than I am with brushes and I find that disturbing. However, I have some color combos I am excited to try out.

I also cannot wait for cooler weather so I can wear full coverage foundation again. Yes I know it's sad but I LOVE my skin to look flawless and summer+humidity+my super oily skin=ick.

I have yet to find the matte product that my skin cannot defeat.

So I stick with a liberal application of loose powder and my skin looks OK but not flawless. I have given up the idea of having actual flawless skin. It just ain't gonna happen but I can look flawless. And that I dig.

OB before I forget I started a hair journal on LJ. It's called Fluffy_lvr (read that as Fluffy Lover). You can read all about my hair care related misadventures and if you're curious about black hair care BAM I talk about that. Since you know, I'm black and all.

I'm still not sure how to actually get the feed if there is one but I will find out if anyone is interested. I might try it via feedburner.


Ok I am going to deep condition and wrap my hair then watch a movie and nibble on cold Chinese food.

Homo Out.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007


I want to dance like Asharah when I grows up.


Yes I am still determined to belly dance.

Also a note about my atrocious spelling lately. I am without vision correction and can't see all that well and it makes my spelling teh SUCK.

Sorry about that.

Anyway back to Asharah.

Check out her hips/chest round the 3 minute mark. Good LORD amighty i wanna be able to do that.

Need more instruction. I need to save up and take classes that's all there is to it.

I am so tired. That's all.

Homo Out.

Monday, August 06, 2007


For some reason I'm dreaming of travel today.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned it but I have a bit of an obsession with going to Ireland. I'm not sure why but it's always been there.

Maybe because I share a name with a major airport there, or because I have a strange love for Irish Bardic poetry, or my strange love of listening to Irish Gaelic spoken, my weakness for black haired black eyed gentlemen? Who knows.

There are several very specific places I want to visit in Ireland. Among them are:

Ballymena. I have spent hours and hours looking at pictures, reading about and pining for this place. Somewhere there is a picture of this open field and I want to sit in it, (it or another similar) for hours alone.

Also naturally I really want to see Leap Castle. However I don't think I want to be chased by pissed off elementals like the Ghost Hunters were. I wanted to go before I ever saw that episode, now I want to go more but probably not at night and absolutely not by myself.

I also want to go to the Highlands of Scotland. Particularly Cairngorms National Park. My love of Scotland comes from memories of the very first boy I was ever in love with being Scottish and listening to his Father tell me all about it in his huge booming voice, watching the boys in the family play the bagpipes. Regale me with tales of big green beautiful places. I want to go.

I also want to go back to Japan. I really want to return to Nara. Specifically I want to go back to the Todaiji Temple and sit with Buddha. I want to feed the little deer and stare in aw at Kofukuji Temple because it is really spectacularly beautiful.

I think part of my dreaming mood is the weather. It clouded over and is warmish.

Also listening to Diamanda Galas on my way to work probably didn't help me in the focus department either.

Don't even get me started about Moscow, Sao Palo, blablabla.

Back to Ms. Galas, I just read something about her that said she's capable of "the most unnerving vocal terror" that is a beautiful very true statement. There is something amazingly beautiful about anyone who puts that sliver of ice in my spine, regardless of how it's done.

I'll leave you folks with one of my favorite poems by Khalil Gibran.

A Lover's Call XXVII

Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little
Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you
As infants look upon the breast of their mothers?

Or are you in your chamber where the shrine of
Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon
Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice?

Or amongst the books, seeking human knowledge,
While you are replete with heavenly wisdom?

Oh companion of my soul, where are you? Are you
Praying in the temple? Or calling Nature in the
Field, haven of your dreams?

Are you in the huts of the poor, consoling the
Broken-hearted with the sweetness of your soul, and
Filling their hands with your bounty?

You are God's spirit everywhere;
You are stronger than the ages.

Do you have memory of the day we met, when the halo of
You spirit surrounded us, and the Angels of Love
Floated about, singing the praise of the soul's deed?

Do you recollect our sitting in the shade of the
Branches, sheltering ourselves from Humanity, as the ribs
Protect the divine secret of the heart from injury?

Remember you the trails and forest we walked, with hands
Joined, and our heads leaning against each other, as if
We were hiding ourselves within ourselves?

Recall you the hour I bade you farewell,
And the Maritime kiss you placed on my lips?
That kiss taught me that joining of lips in Love
Reveals heavenly secrets which the tongue cannot utter!

That kiss was introduction to a great sigh,
Like the Almighty's breath that turned earth into man.

That sigh led my way into the spiritual world,
Announcing the glory of my soul; and there
It shall perpetuate until again we meet.

I remember when you kissed me and kissed me,
With tears coursing your cheeks, and you said,
"Earthly bodies must often separate for earthly purpose,
And must live apart impelled by worldly intent.

"But the spirit remains joined safely in the hands of
Love, until death arrives and takes joined souls to God.

"Go, my beloved; Love has chosen you her delegate;
Over her, for she is Beauty who offers to her follower
The cup of the sweetness of life.
As for my own empty arms, your love shall remain my
Comforting groom; you memory, my Eternal wedding."

Where are you now, my other self? Are you awake in
The silence of the night? Let the clean breeze convey
To you my heart's every beat and affection.

Are you fondling my face in your memory? That image
Is no longer my own, for Sorrow has dropped his
Shadow on my happy countenance of the past.

Sobs have withered my eyes which reflected your beauty
And dried my lips which you sweetened with kisses.

Where are you, my beloved? Do you hear my weeping
From beyond the ocean? Do you understand my need?
Do you know the greatness of my patience?

Is there any spirit in the air capable of conveying
To you the breath of this dying youth? Is there any
Secret communication between angels that will carry to
You my complaint?

Where are you, my beautiful star? The obscurity of life
Has cast me upon its bosom; sorrow has conquered me.

Sail your smile into the air; it will reach and enliven me!
Breathe your fragrance into the air; it will sustain me!

Where are you, me beloved?
Oh, how great is Love!
And how little am I!

Homo Out.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

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.


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.

Holy good lord.

So my Myspace got spoofed however it was a little fortuitous because I got to send Mr. Stahl a wee note that I am excited about reading his new book. That's a good thing. Also strange timing since I'm rereading Permanent Midnight.

Oh good LORD sucked into the myspace again.


Forgot what I was going to say.

Also (I'm putting it here and my LJ so I make myself fucking do it)

I'm working on an essay to submit to Nerve. It's about my habit of having hysterical laughter after having gigantic orgasms. Well not hysterical but the sort of giggling that makes you choke, especially when you're already winded from orgasming like fucking Zeus throwing down the thunder.

I also have to confess that I've been perving on this slightly butchy girl I see on the bus fairly freqeuntly. She's solid and tall and has these almost beefy arms that I like to imagine doing things. Naked sweaty things.

What else?

Oh right I'm updating because I'm at work and this is what I do. Why can I not fucking spell all of a sudden?

Anyhow. This essay is just, ugh. I'm really not enjoying trying this whole non-fiction thing. I can spin a yarn but I'm very critical when it comes to the truth.

Bloody hell.

This month I'm working a buttload of overtime in the hopes that I can not only catch up on a few bills but maybe buy myself something fancy and treat One Hung Low to some fancy birthday celebrating followed by loud monkey sex.

I think I'm about out of steam over here. I need more tea (jasmine green for the win) and maybe some sort of crackery treat.

Fabulous how specific I am no?

Homo Out.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Things I question.

I spend a lot of time cruising the interweb. For a few weeks I was very into looking for and reading street style blogs.

I found most of them to have two things in common. Mostly white people, and mostly very thing white people. Why?

I'm not angry about that just sort of annoyed really. Is it only thin white people who are deemed worthy of high street style? Annoying.


I am currently cruising Ebay looking for some new lipstick. I'm leaning towards a Manic Panic color. I'm very torn between Black Rose and Kiss of Death. I'm leaning towards Kiss of Death mainly because I am 90% certain I have a similar color to Black Rose made by Sinful Colors. I might just keep the shade of Kiss of Death in my head and go drugstore hunting for a duplicate. I'm almost positive I could find one cheaper.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fact that because I am teh broke I am working a shitload of overtime and do not get to meet a pretty girl for lady dancing. That makes me sad.

However should things go right I may have enough money next month to buy a pair of dreadfalls which I would be excited about.

And the new Otep album Ascension is really fantastic.

I think that's about all I'm out of steam for the day. Maybe more later.

Homo Out.
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