Monday, September 24, 2007

Holy Married Mother of Khan

First of all I have to say I think the world ended on Saturday as I noted in my LJ.

Mainly for one reason...wait for it.

I bought a pink sundress.

You read that right. Your very own Bat Cave Dwelling Goth Gothity Goth Goth, So Goth She's Black bought a pink dress.

I blame Target and my darling Cookie for this transgression. Target because it was jammed in a clearance rack and marked down to 4.95 and Cookie because she has been big upping the cause of pink to me for years and it's wearing me down.

First she has me shaking my ass to Justin Fucking Timberlake now this.

What next?

I also walked away with another clearance dress, a cute black wrap style one that I discovered when I got home is actually a bathing suit cover but I can work with it. I also got one of their Long and Lean line tank tops that is absolutely soft and comfy and layers well with my big fucking pink dress.

I also (no I really did this) nearly hip checked someone to get a pair of black knee high knit socks. I should be ashamed but I'm not they are warm and cute. I also got some Halloween socks that are black with glittery silver bones on them.

I also managed to go to Sally Beauty Supply and spend less than 40$ on random shit I didn't actually need. That has to be some sort of record for me because I really only got things that I needed. I will probably talk about that morw later on.

I learned several things from my Target shopping. My ass+XL size panties=wedgie of doom. I bought a cute pair of microfiber booty shorts that I took off as soon as I got to work.

However my boobs+XL tops=snug nirvana.


Also I apparently entirely missed Celebrate Bisexuality Day. What the blue FUCK? Um damn man.

And what else?

Ah yes I was reading Ms. Oro's entry about African-American names and I have some stuff to say. not directed at her really just things to add in general.

First of all, my wonderful brown brothers and sisters of African descent. Please stop giving your children names of cars, shiny things, misspelled things, or words you think sound pretty or fancy but mean something terrible. Please right now.

I myself am a bit of a name collector. I love names. I love the meanings behind names. I think about these things a lot not because I am of the baby making variety of human but, because I am an author and I would say that 95% of the names I use in my fiction I use because I like their meanings.

Also call me a culture pirate but I like a lot of names that some people would say I don't have a right to.

In fact my name is an Irish boys name. These days Shannon (so says behind the name) is unisex but when I was a little kid the only other Shannon's I ever met were a.) Irish as in with accent still intact and b.) boys. I have been known (I can be very cheeky about race and I mostly do it to make other people uncomfortable) to tell people my name is Shannon because I'm Black Irish. Really Black Irish.

Most Americans I've said that to find it vaguely horrifying and give me that sort of wide eyed, OMDG what do I say look, the Irish people I've said it to thought it was hilarious. In fact in the SUPER Irish pub locally here called Kell's, me saying that within earshot of the bar got me a free Guinness that I proceeded to be unable to drink.

Then they laughed at me.

I will say that I've met a fairly large number of people from Ireland and I think because all of them have been nice people who I enjoyed, that has fueled my desire to visit there.

Um where was I?

Race, cheeky right-o.

Ms Oro said in her entry that people have/will ask her things as if "I'm the Black Chick Who's White Enough To Explain and I'm all, Dude, fuck if I know. "

I used to be that girl. I say used to be because, it only takes someone one time to ask me a question about Black Culture they will find out yes I find the idea that Black Culture is wrapped up in just Hip Hop as fucking offensive. I won't start foaming at the mouth here but, I will say that I have grown up to be Not the Girl To Be Asking Stupid Fucking Qustions.

Here's a little wound up of things I never, EVER want to hear about my skin color or my life.

  1. Why are you trying to be white? That has usually been said in reference to how I speak, what I read, how I dress, the music I listen to. My response as a youngster was generally a blast of nuclear type anger. Now I still get pissed but I can articulate how I feel about that. If you (and that you is directed at everyone, Black White whatever) think that my Blackness is only wrapped up in speech or music you have a sad and narrow view of what being a Black Woman is. And before you try speaking to me try stepping out of your little fucking box before, I punch you in the neck.
  2. If I ever hear anyone say the following after making a racist remark, "well I don't mean you, you're different." Actually no I am not. Just because I don't fit into -your- idea of what Black is does not diminish my blackness in any way shape or form.
  3. My skin color does not dictate my tastes.
  4. Before asking me any questions related to the color of my skin ask yourself very carefully if it is a jackass question.
The truth is I don't mind people asking me Black Questionstm it all depends on how you ask me.

For instance, I'm talking to a friend of mine who is yes, white and she asks me why it is I get so upset when someplace like Bartell's doesn't carry make up in my colors. The answer is very simple, if they are going to use the lovely in store displays with people like Halle Barry. Queen Latifah and other gorgeous brown skinned company, in theory those people should be able to shop there for some fucking foundation. So yes, I will get pissed off.

Things like that feel free to ask me.

Wanna know about my hair? Ask but do NOT EVER fucking touch it without me knowing you really super well or asking first.

Seriously that shit has actually happened to me in public and I almost stabbed that bitch. She "just wanted to see if it was real". Yeah. Behave like that and I will fuck up your shit.

Essentially what I'm saying here is the same thing I say about life in general, don't be an asshole. And if you behave in a stupid manner I will in fact be mean to you.

There are exceptions to the rule. I have met many people for whom I was in fact the first Black person they had ever seen in person. The first they'd met and spoken to so, in that case I will gladly put up with some really stupid questions and/or random petting and rubbing.

Case in point:

When I was in Japan years ago some girls followed me into the bath house and pretty much stared the whole time I was getting naked and washing up, then they sort of floated by me in the big tub until one of them worked up the nerve to reach over, touch my arm and ask in broken English if it was a tan. I said no and via some sign language, pop star names and vigorious rubbing of my epidermis, they learned that Black people are in fact brown even on the ass, and that it doesn't come off and no I was not Janet Jackson.

Also at random downtown Seattle I met a woman from New Zealand who'd never seen nor spoken to a Black person and we spent a whole afternoon together drinking tea, bookshopping and I snuck a wee smooch. I couldn't help it I am a sucker for accents and she was open for it.

So sometimes I can be nice really.

But a lot of the time I'm not. Really. No matter what race you are or what skin color you have, my rule stands. If you are stupid, behave in a stupid manner or just piss me off I will be fucking mean to you.


And Ms. Oro, you said you have a unique name. Please to be telling me and schooling me on how to pronounce it?

Pretty please?

Also anyone else who'd like to tell me how to say their name properly feel free to comment.



I think I'm done.

I had one of those antioxidant smoothies from Tully's and I think I might wet myself because it was super tasty and went through me like it was beer.

Homo Out.

PS...actually I will probably post more randomness later.

And again I have to blame Ms. Oro because I was looking at boots from the UK. DAMN YOU. Srsly.

If I ever do get to the UK I'm going to have to ship about 80 pounds of boots home.


PS what the bloody hell happened to my code?

Good lord Blogger is wanky sometimes.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Buckle up my friends.

So yesterday I spent the day with my best girlfriend in the whole motherfucking world. The woman who I am very very convinced was either my wife or husband in a former life, and probably in yet another life a twin sister.

We had ourselves a fantastic motherfucking day. There was boob fondling, shopping, liquor, Lane Bryant, Torrid, bras, books, running amok in Value Village and generally making a scene. There was pool playing, boys saying dirty things in Spanish, driving to hell and back and we only got a little lost.

Before I get to the juicy parts can we discuss Lane Bryant for a minute?

I have not honestly set foot in a Lane Bryant prior to yesterday in about 8 years. All because of one absolutely insanely horrible experience in one. At the time I was not in a good state at all and the women in there were fucking bitches. Tooth sucking, unhelpful, shifty eyed bitches. When I took my purchase to the register I was greeted with a long up and down look, an eye roll then a "is that all you're buying?" and never set foot in one of their stores again.

Until yesterday. After being supremely disappointed in Torrid (more on that later, this is gonna be a long one, feel free to get a snack or a drink)Cookie, her man Garbungular Peehole Man (he and I made up that word a few years ago, Uniballer and I headed into LB. I was not ready to be impressed. But OMG.

I headed for the clearance rack of bras because I like cheap stuff and lo and behold I found the much heralded Cacique Bra6 convertible bra. I found one in a tasty ruddy color called carob brown for wait for it.....6.99. I have friends who have raved about this bra and I am officially a convert. I am wearing it right now because it is super comfortable and makes the D Cups O Doom look fucking fantastic.

Also this woman who worked at LB gave me the super star treatment, explained their different pants fit. Told me how some of their trousers would look fabulous on me. Explained in super detail how their sales and discounts tend to work. She was so friendly and sweet I was very very impressed. I'm actually going to call her store manager today to compliment her.

Now can we talk about Torrid?

Not only did they have nothing on sale for their grand opening but Cookie said that most of what was on clearance elsewhere was full price. And a lot of the new trousers for the Boy Style collection look to me like they have a seriously high poly content and have a weird sheen.

Not impressed at all.

Although they did have some plain black trousers I liked a lot.

Can we talk about boots for a minute?

I am on the hunt for winter boots and I've narrowed it down to the below four styles.

Now I have decided that if I find the boots I think I may give skinny jeans a whirl. Skinny Motherfucking Jeans. With tunic length tops layered with cardigans or sweaters or something.

What else?

AH CRAP I lost a link. And now I found it. I read this entry over at The Endomorph's Blog via the Fatosphere feed about labels and I am one of those people who is almost always very cheeky about labels. This has not always so. As a matter of fact I used to be quite rabid in my hate of labels.

I find it far easier to list labels that I am not because what I am aside from the basic human bits changes mood to mood. So a list of what I am not:

  • White
  • Straight
  • Economically well off
  • Stupid
  • Religious
  • Entirely healthy
  • Sick because of my fat
  • Tall
  • Unscarred
  • Entirely Sane
I could go on and on but you get my point. As I get older I am if not more comfortable with labels I understand the need for them a little more. Some people don't do well with the whole unique snowflake thing and that's fine. However, I will tell you that no matter what kind of label I might come up with (and I've come up with some doozys) labels will never ever give you a clear picture of who I am.

To get that you'll have to do the hard thing and actually talk to me. Scary I know but that's how I roll.

AH I have a new webtoy I just joined up at if you use that site be my homie and we can see what each other is reading. Very fun because I'm nosy. I'm still adding books so feel free to look.

I think I'm spent. My tummy is a little upset and I want a snack.

Homo Out.


Monday, September 17, 2007

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.


Friday, September 14, 2007


Have you ever had that moment? You know you're talking to someone or reading something and you're right there with it then all of a sudden, blankness. All you can really say is wait...what?

I've been having that kind of week in general.

Between reading horrific fucking news that I refuse to link to because then I'd have to see it again, to (this part is good) me getting praise and a raise at work I've been feeling kind of odd.

As a reward to self for doing good at the old JOB I have decided that I am either going to start saving for a new tattoo or a biggish shopping spree sometime this winter I can't decide which.

I also this week managed to introduce several veritable strangers to HAES and my view of Size Acceptance and why I am a part of it. That was pretty cool. And it all started because I followed a fat girl for two blocks downtown Seattle only to ask where she bought her shoes.

Turned out we were catching the same bus so I told her about Fatshionista, FattyVore and a few others.

Speaking of Fattyvore I still don't really know how I feel about that particular community. My individual style is really way out in left field to me. (As an aside I'm watching a documentary about Lions right now and I watched a teenaged lion totally drop his ass on another lion's face and it cracked me up) ANYWAY before I get more distracted I was talking about my particular style and Fattyvore. I am not entirely into it.

Also can I talk about porn? Why does nobody in the Fatosphere that I've found talk about fat porn? I don't know. So I will.

I like porn. I like looking at naked women in particular. Sometimes for absolute artistic reasons other times because it makes my girly bits tingle. And in case you can't figure it out from my subject matter here, the following links are not safe for work unless you work somewhere, where they are naked booby friendly.

One of my absolute favorite fat nude models is Miss Super Hot Ass Blu Velvet. Oh my Goddess OH MY GOOD LORD she is fucking hot. There is something about that woman, actually OKAY I'll just say it, it's her ass. She has the most gorgeous plump round expanse of booty. I want to take her over my knee, spank her til she squeals then probably bite her butt. I have a thing for butts. I love them.

I am also very into Miss Curvaceous I am very into Alt style models and I just love her. Fabulous hair, creative shoots and I just love her face. She looks like she'd be kickass to hang out with and probably do evil things with.

Also a heads up to LJ users, I found most of these folks via the Voluptuous Pinup Community. If you're into fat girls being photographed all done up and pretty like it's a good one to join. Also good to join if you are a fat girl who likes to get done up all pretty and have your picture taken.

Next up let's talk about Curvosity. They are the largest BBW network of nudie sites and it's run by nice people. It's set up like Suicide Girls but, it's all big girls looking gorgeous. They also have a community on LJ where not only models from their sites show it all off but, they also encourage new people to post photos.

Moving on from strictly the porny side of things I want to talk about something else I love and that is Fetish Photography.

I have been a lover of fetish photography for a really long time. I have some favorite photographers, favorite websites and books but, my big issue with this genre of erotica is that a lot of the time the models seem a little cold to me. Not their personalities per se but, there is so much of the same thing over and over again the appeal just isn't really there for me anymore.

To be perfectly honest I'm tired of the same few body types. There is the thin and waifish (think Kate Moss in PVC with some tattoos or crazy hair), there is the thin with a slightly chunky butt (think JLo in PVC with some tattoos or crazy hair), there is thin with huge boobs (think any celebrity with big fake jugs in PVC with some tattoos or crazy hair). Calculate for the many permutations of body mod, hipster dress/undress, and yeah.

What I like personally is the real. If you're not kinky, just to tell you that the vast majority of people in the world of kink (like the rest of the word) don't look like models. They have stretch marks and pimples and wrinkles and saggy boobs, saggy balls hairy asses and everything in between. That is really what I want to see in pictures. It would in fact turn me on 150% more to get a little taste of the real to fuel my fantasy.

When I pick up a book, a magazine or go to a website all too often I get more of a sense of fashion photography than actual sexual excitement. Sex isn't digitally smooth and pretty, it's not high fashion. That's my personal preference.

As much as I complain I honestly have yet to grow enough ovaries to make my OWN goddamn fetish art. I've been kicking around the vague want to do my own thing with some nudie photography and honestly I'm not quite there yet. But every image I see that just doesn't do it for me, or if you took away the body mods could be any fashion model I feel a little more of a tug to do it. It could happen.

While I'm on the subject of fetishes let's discuss the whole fat fetish thing.

For me, fat is not a fetish. I am not into feederism, or any of that look how much the fatty fat fat eats while she's naked type thing. I dislike both and feel like they can be exploitive and dangerous.

I'm not into it. I'm not saying that no one else can be, but I will caution people that feederism especially can be a dangerous thing. From what I've seen and read a lot of the men who are feeders at the root want absolute control over another individual in a way that strikes me as slimy and evil. It's one thing to knowingly hand power over to another person, it's entirely another to find yourself at the mercy of another person because as they want to feed you, you want to keep them etc. Granted I don't know all the particulars but let me just say, please be careful and love yourself to know the difference between abuse and love. That's all I want to say about that.

Now from photos let's move onto the written word. This next bit, seriously is probably going to come off as blatant Hanne Blank ass kissing and I don't care. I have already professed my fangirl status to Ms. Blank personally so everyone else think what you like.

She has been involved with some of the hottest most fabulous erotica. Seriously. Let's make a list.

Zaftig: Well Rounded Erotica. Edited by Ms Blank is a seriously hot collection. I bought it right when it came out and wore out a copy.

I also firmly believe that everybody who is fat, or having sex with someone who is fat should read Big Big Love:A Sourcebook on Sex for People of Size and Those Who Love Them. Seriously, put the condoms away right now put your pants on and go buy this book. I insist.

If you're new, just cruised in from the Fatosphere or randomly found me yes, I like porn a lot. I enjoy adult things. And I like to talk about them.

Also none of these links are affiliate links or anything so I'm not bullshitting about my appreciation of them.

If you are a fellow porn lover, enjoy. If you don't like porn, I hope you at least learned a little something.

That my darlings is about all. I want to write Anthony back and drink more tea.

Homo Out.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

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.


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.


Tuesday, September 11, 2007

It puts the lotion on it's skin...

You can totally blame Uniballer for this one.

Now that you all will be singing that all fucking night like I am I feel better.

Ok a few things. Any of you big booty(Big booby, all round big) girls and boys who love the look of Lip Service but can't find it in your size since their sizing has gone super wonk, check out this entry in the Lippy Addicts LJ community and tell them. Big people REPRESENT!

Also for some good reading check out this blog. I found it after um, shit I don't know HOW I found it I just did. There is an entry (I commented on it) that is a response to that piece of shit piece the NYT ran about how nerdiness is whiteness. Or rather "hyperwhiteness" as they termed it. I read that piece when it ran but was so irritated I couldn't even respond.

Hrm what else.

OH I got my box o surprise clothes from Good Goth and I am mostly happy. I got a burgundy shirt of some sort that has shiny things on it. And a cheongasm dress. I am a little worried about that fitting it didn't look big enough when I took it out of the box

If it doesn't fit I am very tempted to take it apart and make myself some sort of fabulous fetish outfit and then make Uniballer take me out so I can look hot.

I'm thinking of shiny bits and lacing. I got distracted thinking about that.

Now let's talk about make up because I had mad money saved and got myself some excellent products.

First thing I got was a L'Oreal HIP cream liner in Eggplant. And I'm guessing it got discontinued which is why I can't find it anywhere. Anyhow I got it on ebay and the color is fantastic. Just enough shimmer and bonus it actually lasted all day on my lids yesterday with no primer. Which is a feat in and of itself. goes on smoothly and is just lovely.

Hrm that's annoying. Moving on.

I also picked up an Avon Mark lip stain in >Berry Bitten. I have been on the hunt for a good lipstain that wasn't too light because I have brown lips. This one absolutely fit the bill. Every review I read said it stained way darker than it showed to and BINGO. I will probably pick up the red shade too. It doesn't quite have the lasting power I was looking for. About 6 hours with lip balm over it But the color is gorgeous deep berry and looks amazing against my skin.

And my super made of win find is a Glitter Liner by Urban Decay which I have been fantasizing about for MONTHS I got one for 10 bucks shipped bitches. You people don't even know how much I have wanted one but haven't been able to afford it.

It's on the way.

You guys have no idea what kind of make up slut I am. No idea.

I should be stopped.

Speaking of make up I didn't do anything special today because it was fucking hot in my apartment and I was sweating. So I'm just wearing a wash of bright pink eye shadow and a buttload of mascara.

My make up tip for the day. If you are a huge eyelash lover like myself use the Maybelline XXL white coat, with a higher end mascara and BAM LASHES. Currently I'm doing that with Benefit's Bad Gal mascara but I'll be looking for a new one to try soon.

Most likely it'll be a toss up between Too Faced Lash InjectionSk or maybe Urban Decay skyscraper mascara.

Clearly, I'm not into natural over here and I really don't care to be lectured about it kthnks.

And one more tip for some awesome tutorials I found while cruising Google awhile back. Go to LimeCrime then click the strawberries in the left hand corner, then click the tutorials link. Fabulous lovely make up.

I really love the Doll Parts Tutorials.

I still need some other things for my make up wardrobe. I need more glitter. A good chubby black eyeliner. WTF why is a good one so hard to find these days? It has to go on soft, not waxy and stay fucking black. What the hell man?

I also need some blush. I also think I am going to buy some Matter the Better from Avon Mark. Or something else. I am determined to look flawless all Fall and Winter goddamn it.

I think that's about all for now. I am going to make some tea and whatnot.

Homo Out.


Monday, September 10, 2007

The D word, my role and whatnot.

First of all Hanne Blank said most everything I wanted to and p;probably far better than I could have.

Particularly this bit:

Here’s what I do claim and want: I want to live in a world where everyone is treated humanely and respectfully just because they’re human. The size or shape or weight of a person’s body is just one of the things that comes under the heading of Bad Reasons To Treat Someone Poorly.

Also, seeing a human being referred to as a "situation" pisses me right the fuck off. I can't even tell you.

In reading today I have no real idea what to think. As Hanne said in her entry, I too am bad at party line. Honestly, I just don't know what to say. I suppose my want to not shove people out of the way because they may or may not toe the line in regards to the issues of weight and weight loss. I still don't believe that in and of itself dieting (not using common vernacular here, so let me rephrase) deliberate weight loss, for the sake of weight loss in an evil thing.

I think this way for a few reasons. Mainly that I know (and I'm sure a lot of other people know) sometimes, for some people those ten pounds make a big world of difference. And I'm not talking about someone who hates their body until they lose that magical ten pounds, I'm talking about someone like me. Who knows that ten pounds ago her knees did not ache so bad, her back didn't hurt so much, her clothes fit properly. And yes, I am one of those people who pretty much still loves my fat ass, but I realize that being in pain and being depressed is not good for my fat ass regardless of how much I love it.

The second reason is as I've said time and time again it's the whole party line thing. I'm not good at it. I've never been good at it. That is probably what's kept me out of various movements or my involvement in various political movements has been short and bitter. I don't like group think.

I don't like conversations that unless you are agreeing or at least seeming to agree you're just shunted out of it because either you "just don't understand" or are willfully not keeping your toes on the line. I'm not saying that is happening here exactly it's just something that chaps my ass in general.

I'm also starting to question my place in the Fatosphere.

I don't know exactly where I'm going here. I suppose my big issue here is that I really don't like the assumption that someone can't still be involved in fat acceptance and size acceptance if they are losing weight. I don't like it because if it's someone I don't know personally who am I to question their motives? Do I know their health situation? Their mental state? I don't like it, I don't do it and seeing it makes me cranky.

Also I have to wonder how much of my own personal history and things that I don't generally talk about in public would get me kicked out of the club if I am in fact in it at all? Does what I say actually matter?

These aren't questions that are exclusive to my involvement in the fatosphere but things I ask myself on a fairly frequent basis whenever I involve myself in something.

After saying all that I suppose I actually can clarify my position. I am not a Fat Activist. Nor am I only for Fat Acceptance. I am for Size Acceptance period. That means fat, thin, inbetween, very fat, very thing whatever.

That means specifically that I want everyone to be able to get quality health care, I want everyone to be happy with their bodies, I want everyone to not get harassed by doctors and random dick heads on the street.

If that means I can't be in the same sandbox as other people involved you know what, that's fine with me. Really. After all this is in fact my sandbox where I get to talk about whatever I want. And really, if you hate it or don't like it we can discuss it, but please don't make the mistake of thinking that you'll change me. You probably won't

Quite honestly at this point, I am pretty pleased with myself. I'm enjoying my body in a way that I wasn't two years ago, or even five years ago. Hell ten goddamn years ago if you want to know the truth. I am mostly pleased with how I approach my life and health. Although I will tell you right now internetz, those ten pounds I referenced above, may have to come off. Mostly to see if it will alleviate some of my joint problems. I really really don't want to go on medication for it. But we'll see.

And I don't think that decision means I can't still have my Size Acceptance/maybe someday actual activist type thing going on. I just don't.

Ok I think that's all I really have to say about all that.

Now I want to switch gears from politics to fashion because I am wearing a very kickass outfit today.

I spend a lot of time wardrobe remixing because I don't usually have a lot of money to spend on new things. Today I am wearing a fabulous fish tail asymetrical hemmed black skirt, a black underwire cami and over that a black cap sleeved mesh shirt with a pretty little o-ring detail in the front that my Cookie gave me a couple of years ago.

I am gothariffic today.

The shoes are not fabulous though. My knees were hurting soemthing fierce earlier so I'm wearing my (starting to feel fug) Mary Janes. I really need new cute shoes I can walk in.

What's special about this outfit is that it's a lot more form fitting than I've been comfortable wearing lately and it looks frigging good. I'm considering maybe a pair of more platform stompy goth Mary Janes or some such.

I had a pretty good weekend. I actually napped yesterday which is way out of the ordinary for me. I also spent some quality time with myself and did pretty making things. Legs shaved (which should be a national holiday since it happens so rarely), mustache removal, manicure (fabulous uber gawth black with a light overlay of red) and on Saturday Uniballer and I did some Dollarstore shopping and went to the Chinese buffet.

The buffet was off the hook. I ate probably 90 bucks worth of seafood. I couldn't help it. It was fantastic. I also made our waitress giggle because I can get down with some seafood. I was peeling shrimp with my nails, then tearing open crab legs with said nails like you don't even know.

I also discovered that I have become woefully inflexible. That's really kind of frustrating to me because unlike a lot of people I know I don't really like doing yoga that much. It just doesn't hold my interest. I have some decent yoga DVD's but I really don't enjoy them. I may go back to the same group of stretches I did for years. Nothing fancy, all of them learned while I was a cheerleader in high school.

Finally something I learned in high school pays off.

What else?

Oooh I've been playing with Polyvore more and I want this outfit or something similar and then i want an event to wear it to. I'm thinking maybe that big Fetish thing taht goes on in December that I can't recall the name of. Circ du Noc? HA my GoogleFu rules. I was right.

So below is the outfit. I WANT.

How hot would that be?

By the way the curved thing in the corner would be for my labret.

Mmm huge fetish party. MMm fancy outfit.

I think I'm about spent. I have some potato soup I would like to eat and some tea to make.

Homo Out.


Friday, September 07, 2007

Very amused.

Another tidbit.

I am so in lust with this Lip Service outfit it's just not funny.

Also I totally forgot to mention that I have new content up at Associated Content. WOOT.

You can find all my articles here. My HAES/Size acceptance article on reading it again I don't think is all that good but my other articles are KICK ASS.

Also I have banana chips and they are delicious.

I may or may not wind up buying this fucking Lip Service outfit so I will stfu about it.


From the sidelines.

Okay I have a post working up in my head about this whole dword thing and about Hanne Blank (hi *typed while blushing*) but today you know what? I am really not in the mood to talk about it because frankly the whole conversation depresses me.

Instead I want to talk about my body.

Specifically I want to talk about my ass and my boobs. Tits and ass, my own. I will try not to go all lesbotronic again and get sidetracked. It could happen though be forewarned.

First of all I am wearing some of my new Torrid clothes. The pinstriped shortpants. I still do not like the words capri pants so I say shortpants.

First of all these short pants are fairly tight and I wasn't sure I was comfortable with that. They outline my hamhocks like WHOA. Hamhocks here is slang for my thighs o oak. I was a little wibbly about it then said fuck it. Then I got the magical glimpse at my ass and said, hot DAYUM that is one hot ass.

No seriously I swear I did.

My butt(from here on out known as the Brown Round) is not the butt of my dreams sadly. I feel like I got a little cheated in the buttoxial area. I have a slightly round, smallish booty. I want BAM BOOTY. I want badonkadonk, I want junk in my trunk, a motor in the back of my Honda. Remember videos from the early 90's and Jlo back in the day when she was a Fly Girl? Those girls in the BBD video Poison (if you don't want to get up and do the running man while listening to that song there is something wrong with your ass region). I have always wanted that. I still longingly look at girls in videos and get sad. I want BIG BOOTY. Seriously. The kind that if I were still a stripper I could make it clap. I'm not joking. If you don't know what a booty clap is you may not want to ask because I'll show you.

Now back to my Brown Round. These pants make my more cupcake shaped booty look hawt. Generally when I am ogled it's the boobs but I caught someone lookin at my butt and YEAH. And one of my favorite ladies I see most every day said my ass looks hot.

Ok wait have to stand up and bootyshake at my desk. That Naughty By Nature song Hip Hop Hooray is on and I like that song.

I got SO sidetracked you don't even know. There is something to love about working somewhere, where you can dance at your desk for a few minutes and people will join you. And tell you that your pinstriped pants are kick ass.

Now where was I? Right-o my ass.

So when I started this entry I was still feeling sort of meh entirely. I didn't sleep well last night, my knees hurt so I couldn't wear my very sexy wedge platform sandals with my sexy shortpants, but I am feeling far sassier now. Saucy in fact.

It also helps that I totally just scored an Urban Decay glitterliner for 10 bucks shipped. I got it in Spandex which the site says is, "black, accented w/ rainbow glitter".

If you're new here or just surfed in from the Fatosphere I am a complete make up and clothes whore. No seriously. I love make up like drag queens like padded bras. I love all things related to make up. I own and wear a ton of make up. It makes me squee.

I am also highly thrifty so anytime I get kick ass products at kickass prices I get SUPER excited.

Now let's talk about my boobs. Honestly, no matter what weight I am at my boobs are my favorite physical characteristic. Even when I call them unruly bitches, or when they are fighting to get out of my shirt I still love em.

My D Cups of Doom baby.

They make me happy.

Matter of fact I just dabbed a little BPAL perfume in them. Today I am wearing Tushnamatay. I am now addicted to BPAL and I have all my imps in a special little box.

I think I'm over this right now. I am going to finish my snack and probably cruise the intertubes for more glamours things for low prices.

No WAIT one more thing I am very excited about. I bought a surprise grab bag of clothes from I will report back when I get it.

Homo Out.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Stuck in the Middle with you.

No, I'm not about to start singing that song to you. However I just read a really excellent entry by the lovely Ms. Kate Harding (go read it I'll wait here it'll even open in a new window for you). I really appreciate reading things like that.

What about my own experiences? My experience as a fat person has varied in many ways over the years. That was yesterday, go read her post today about dieting and go read the lovely Ms. Rotund too,. Done ok come back.

Personally I do not at this point in time have a political inclination one way or the other about weight loss. Aesthetically I do sometimes get sad when I see someone who loses a bunch of weight and (to me) looks unhappy or unhealthy.

What about me personally?

Well I suppose it all depends on how I put it doesn't it? If I say something like:

I am changing my eating habits and exercise habits because it makes me feel good inside and out.

That sounds okay doesn't it? Very much following the precepts of HAES and whatnot.

However if I said:

"I'm on a diet trying to lose ten pounds so I'll feel better."

Would people lose their shit and kick me out of the club?

Essentially I'd be saying the same thing. My base desire is the same regardless of how I put it. I think that's why I don't really have an issue with just the word diet. In my head I have stripped the word diet of all the nefarious connotations and rules and whatnot. I understand most people haven't but I have so the issue is a non issue for me.

What is an issue for me however when the why is ignored because someone used the d word. As I have been saying for years now I want my peeps to be happy and healthy. If that means they want to drop four dress sizes, fifty pounds, a hundred pounds whatever that is not my call to make. Nor is it my job to tell them, hey you are absolutely not going to be happy because I don't know that.

From my own experience, sometimes I am actually better smaller. Various reasons of course. Though they are usually joint pain, the clothes I own fitting properly. I am of the mind that yes, if someone gets pathological in their need for weight loss whether they are phrasing it in a HAES friendly way or using the d word I will say something. But it's not my place (or anyone else's for that matter in my opinion) to police someone else's body and vocabulary.

While I'm in a confessional mood I will cop to a few other things that may or may not cause people to like me less.

I am entirely uninterested in manifestos. Honestly I have never ever read one that made my heart go pitterpat and my fist pump in the air (and I've read many). I take serious umbrage at anyone (whether they have good intention or not) speaking for me or pretending to represent me because ya know what? You don't.

I don't care if it's race, weight, womanhood, queerness, right handed left hand masturbators (um sidenote isn't that the plural of masturbator?) whatever. I may or may not be a special and unique snowflake but goddamn it, don't tell me how I am feeling about something. Ask me.

I also still dream (although I have finally just accepted that unless I shoot up roids for years just will not happen) of being Linda Hamilton buff and/or becoming a ladies MMA/UFC stylie ass kicking mother fucker. People always think I am kidding but I am dead serious. I would LOVE to be able to put a serious beating on people. You people don't even know.

Also I would in fact crash diet for a chance to wear this. Because the biggest size would most likely not fit me and if I had someone to wear something like that, I would do it. I won't lie.

I think that's about all I have to get off of my chest right now.

Moving on today I wanna talk about sexy things.

Is it wrong that the Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds song O'Malley's Bar kinda makes me wanna fuck? While we're on the subject of songs that make me wanna fuck let's make a list shall we?

Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge. The beat, the lyrics. Makes me wanna do dirty things.

Licking Cream by Skin and Sevendust. Lajon and Skin together=hot fucking sex.

And this lady Ms. Fabulous Beth Hart needs to get it from me while she's singing. Anybody who writhes around like that while singing has GOT to be a beast in the sack. The sound in the video isn't the greatest but youg et the idea.

Seriously people. ZOMG one more. Good LORD her doing this song is fucking sexy. SEXY.

Ok apparently I am feeling super lesbotronic today. So the rest of this entry will be an homage to women I want to do it with while they are singing.

Next up of course, Melissa Etheridge. I'm the Only One. Oh, my LORD. I went to see in concert by myself once and sat in this row of all these hot butches, when she did this song I shit you not I burst into tears. Got smooched and hugged by butches who thought I was very cute. It did nothing for my baby butch street cred but, I did get groped so that makes up for it. I fucking LOVE this woman.

If you haven't guessed already I am an absolute fool for a woman with some big pipes. I can't help it.

If you don't like loud screaming music skip this next one.

Otep. Ye Gods how I love me some Otep. Her voice makes me tingle in my private area.

I also want to do it with Anne Boleyn from Hellion. No I mean right now. No now.

And OMFG Sarah Jezebel Deva, I believe I've mentioned her before. The voice, the eyes good lord she can sing the panties off of me(if I wore any) any damn day she likes.

I also still have a mad girl crush on Lucy the former webmistress of Goths of Colour.

I think that's enough for the day. My back hurts and I need medication and something yummy. I believe the Bartlett pear I have on my desk will do for a start.

Homo Out.


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