Monday, December 29, 2008


I've got some new readers. So I figured I'd tell you folks some stuff about my FA views you may or may not know.

Feel free to ask questions about these bits.

1.) I don't have a super hate on for the diet industry. I do believe that the corporate machine that makes up these "we care about your health so give us shitloads of money" corps kinda suck. However, I do see that some people need somewhere like Weight Watchers. I do think that it's a shame that so many of these ever so concerned businesses like to bullshit their ways into our tender hearts with their tear jerker commercials, their tell alls, their weeping celebrity spokespeople. Because it is bullshit. They don't actually give two shits about the "Obesity Crises", your health, my health or anything else. All they really want are those dollars.

All that said, I will say that when I find some diet company foods at the outlet store where we grocery shop I will buy them. I think those South Beach lunchable thingies are delicious. Not worth the five fucking dollars they are at Safeway, but when they are on sale for 1.89 I will get two or three for my lunch. I also though I'm not a huge soda drinker love Coke Vanilla 0. Most soda's are too sweet for my taste and sometimes I really want a fucking soda and those work. Also due to Uniballer's borderline diabeticness, I like a lot of sugar-free (OH NOEZ IT"S GUNNA KILL ME WIF THE FAKE SUGARZ) candies.

2.) I am not a huge or even purposeful HAES practitioner. Frankly HAES is impractical and often frustrating for me. My body may want some vegetables but my wallet often isn't full enough for said vegetables so I don't bother. I do think HAES is a good idea, and very good in practice for some people I am just not one of them to the degree I'd put the label on myself. - Edited to add since I apparently deleted some bit of this. I am speaking here about the intuitive eating, portion of HAES. As for the rest, I don't have a huge opinion. I think that if it does you good to try and be healthy and happy at whatever size you are that is awesome.

3.) I do take some issue with Fat Activism being only about Fat people. Which is why I'm more apt to say Size Acceptance. Frankly, my perspective is that for as many issues that seem to be exclusive to fat people, people with bodies are experiencing them to a degree as well. And I believe that as human beings, the path to keeping all of our bodies from being legislated against and discriminated against is paved with fat and not so fat and super bony ass skinny and not so skinny stones. I wholeheartedly believe there is room for all bodies to benefit from the tenets put forth by Fat Activism. Men, Women, whatever gender and representation you are rocking in whatever body you have. It has to do with all of us.

4.) The above is why you will probably not find me at No Lose, NAAFA conventions and meetings etc. It's just not my bag. If it's yours that's great, that's awesome it's just not my thing.

5.) I am not a feminist. I put that label down in favor of keeping my blood pressure low. There are myriad reasons why I have arrived at this particular juncture in my life. I have yet to find the kind of feminism that I would be proud to cheer for. That isn't to say I don't like a lot of feminists because I do. That also doesn't mean that I want women to not have equality yadda yadda. I will not ally myself with "feminists" who despite their rabid defense of some women would demonize, humiliate and be fucking assholes to anyone who doesn't fit their idea of "health" or "attractiveness". Do some searching I'm sure you'll figure out what I'm talking about. So in a nutshell, fuck that. No.

6.) As with any movement, I really fucking hate it when someone who doesn't fit the "look" of who you think should be in a movement they get shunted into (in my opinion) the dubious position of ally. I look at it this way, say you and I agree about something. I am really not likely to say "awesome you agree but you can't really be involved so why don't you just stand right here and look friendly." Granted I'm overstating here but, you get the gist of what I'm saying. If you're with me, you're with me and that is awesome. I hate over complicating things with jargon and hierarchy.

7.) For the record I am not of the opinion that for everybody being fat is great and wonderful. I don't know where people get that idea. Fact is, every body has a different experience. And yes, for some people deliberate weightloss (OH NOEZ I SAID IT) could help relieve some health problems. However that does not mean, that ones weight should be the first factor considered with any health problem. There are lots of illnesses etc that are exacerbated, caused by, and have nothing to do with how fat your ass is. Further, I do not believe it is a moral imperative for people to want to or strive to be healthy. It's your body do what you want with it.

I also do not believe that it is at all okay to demonize people or discriminate (remember kids, discrimination is not bias, it is bias in action) against people who don't share your view of the importance of their health. If you want to avoid every fat known to man, salt, meat, diary, and whatever else is deemed to be "evil" foods today fantastic, do it. But your decision is not my decision and vice versa.

Also, again you cannot for the most part look at a person and know the intimacies of their health. You just can't. Being fat does not automatically=being so unhealthy ZOMG FATASS UR GUNNA DIE. Being thin does not automatically=healthy and awesome. It just doesn't work that way.

I'm sure you're getting the theme here.

Essentially when it comes to FA, Feminism etc my base ideals revolve around the fact that I do not want other people trying to control my mind or body, and I don't want to control other peoples minds and bodies. It's just not right.

So as I keep saying over and over again think whatever you want to about fat people, people of color etc. Rock on with your bad self.

The problem folks, is when you take those biases, and try to use them to make my decisions for me. Or when you use your biases to influence what kind of health care or service I get.

I don't appreciate it and I doubt that you'd like it if I did that to you.

I leave you with some Popa Chubby. Hell to the yeah. This did induce some rocking out at my desk.

Rather than my usual navel gazing end of the year post on Weds I want to do something different. Not sure what yet.

However there will be a 2008 in review. With pictures.

Now, please come have a look at my blogroll. I read a fuckton more blogs than that and I can't seem to keep the goddamn thing updated properly so if I am missing a link to you let me know or if you would like me to come read your blog lemme know.

That's it for now.

Homo Out.

OOOH PS..I posted at the Cheekan yesterday go look.


Thursday, December 25, 2008

HNT, awesome and whatnot.

So HNT today is supposed to be three wishes.

I don't have three I have one.

I wish that all of you, those of you who come here just to laugh at the fatty, those of you cruising randomly on google for porn, those of you who are here sitting at your computers seething with rage for whatever reason. And my regular readers, my bootyshaking, shy awesome readers. You other random readers.

For my new Blogosphere friends I've made on Twitter on elsewhere. Everybody.

My wish is that all of us have a better year in 2009.

I want us all to feel good, and feel better. I want us to be happier and more content.

I want us all to be as fabulous as we are without the bullshit.

Now, I am going to wait for Uniballer to arrive so we can have some dinner. And count down the rest of the workday.

I love you.

And as the half nekkid part of my HNT, I presents my hams again.


Those are unshaven, big old hams.

Happy Chrismakwanzikah.

Merry Festivus.

I hope yours is good no matter what you're doing.

Homo Out.


Tuesday, December 23, 2008


I have to confess.

I have for the last hour or so been leering at various metal playing, hair swinging, head banging men.

I said to a friend and meant entirely that I would bang Zakk Wylde like a screen door.

Why would I say something like that?

Because I absolutely would.

Frankly sometimes musical skill, the timbre of a voice etc can send me off to wanting to do it with somebody.

No it can.

I do have a terrible soft spot for metal heads. I have been a head banger since I was a wee lass rocking out in my room. I've never been much of an air guitarist but I am a supreme pretend front woman.

I still do it.

Have my metal playing, I strut, head bang. Point. I HAVE a power stance.

For instance I knew this long lanky slightly geeky metal head when I was a youngster, and I will tells you internets I had no hots for him until I went to see his band play. He was the drummer and an excellent one at that. And well, I climbed that like a tree.

I remember at some show or other, I spent a lot of time making out with a girl standing next to me because I could hear her singing and it was hot.

I still harbor the fantasy that one day I will get up in the morning, open my mouth to sing as I do a lot at home and discover my BIG BALLS METAL VOICE.

See this:

Oh yes.

Unfortunately though I can sing, I can't sing like that and sometimes that makes me sad because I would actually like being able to roar like that.

However, should that day ever come my homies.

Fully expect my fat ass to be standing atop a or some such, getting my rock on.

I do have a point here. But I've lost it. I got up really fucking early to try and get a package from the office at my apartment building but they were not down there when I was ready then I had to leave for work.

So, in lieu of more actual content what gives you an instant happy in your pants?

What silly dreams do you still cherish?

What gives you a visceral kind of thrill?

Okay I'm working through the holiday so I will probably do a fashion post tomorrow.

Homo Out.


Fat Musings take four million.

I was cruising around on the Fatosphere feed and this entry over at Fat Lot of Good caught my eye.

I myself had a breast reduction just about 16 years ago (for those counting I was 14) and it was a lifesaver for me in many ways.

However what I found interesting were the comments. Go look.

What intrigued me most was a bit of the non acknowledgment of purposeful weight loss. Not on Bri's part but this is what shook loose in my head. (I totally started this yesterday but got distracted.)

All around the Fatosphere there are lots of heavily enforced rules in other folks' sandboxes about no weight loss discuss or talk. It's your sandbox do as you please. There have been arguments over the 'radical' nature of the anti-purposeful weight loss stance before and I won't rehash them.

Personally I don't subscribe to that particular line of thought.

My train of thought on the issue is as follows.

I don't believe that purposeful weight loss is in and of itself a terribly evil thing. I don't believe that someone automatically has started to hate being fat or fat people if they are not comfortable at whatever weight.

I do think that when confronted with someone who wants to lose weight, it can be helpful to talk to them about it in a non judgmental way. For instance.

Homie: I think I'd like to lose a few pounds.
Me: Why's that? Are you okay? (Note the are you okay part, shows caring yanno)
Homie: Well, I've gained about fifteen pounds and my pants don't fit, my back hurts and I'm really not comfortable or happy.
Me: You can always get new pants if you need them. But you know, if you want to talk about it you can talk about it with me.
Homie: Thanks.


Homie: Do you think adjusting my diet might help me lose a few pounds?
Me: Possibly. Just don't go all only eating carrots nuts okay?
Homie: Okay.

See, my big thing is that if it's someone I care about I'd much rather not try and heal them of their evil ass shrinking ways. If asked for help or advice I will give it gladly but I won't proselytize until they declare love of their expanding ass and vow to never actively go about weight loss.

I just don't see the point in shaming people.

Which is what it's doing let's not kid ourselves.

When you emphatically and unquestioningly tell people that you will not talk about something with them, when they do have that thought or question and know they cannot speak to you about it, a lot of people I know feel ashamed.

I have seen people express that feeling when they've stopped reading FA blogs. That they feel like traitors to the cause or otherwise unwelcome. And I'm not really into that.

I would far rather talk to someone about weight loss in a way that doesn't make them feel like a shit, that maybe helps them get to a place where they do in fact love their ever expanding ass and don't feel the need to lose weight. Or that they can stand up for themselves at the doctor and say, no thanks I'm happy with my weight.

Sometimes I think about those people who are very new to FA or not sure if they belong in FA. I think about the people who've been shamed for their whole lives. I think about the girls I've known who've run home in tears or fled home in tears because of comments about their bodies.

I think about the guys who just have no bloody idea what to think.

If I were them and I wasn't fully on board with FA yet and I read some of these things I would probably feel excluded and confused. Matter of fact that is a sentiment I've heard from a few people and it makes me sad.

It also brings to mind the whole dichotomy of good and bad fattie. Which is a whole other thing that I don't want to go into in depth really. Honestly, as with many things I still call bullshit and shenanigans on the whole idea that we must prove ourselves to be the good fatties in order to defeat the current ideas about fatness.

Moving on.

Now, where the personal meets the political I'd like to talk about the state of my own ass.

I took my measurements recently and because of how my body is shaped, I'm very firmly wedged between sizes in many size rangers. Between a 14-16W, between a 12-14 plus, between a 15-17 in juniors plus etc etc.

What this means when it comes to clothing my body is that a lot of the clothing I buy off the rack does not fit properly. And believe it or not I had the same problem when I was very thin, but to a worse degree because my overall body was a lot smaller but my boobs were not. At a size 5 I believe it was I was a 36 band size and often DDD cup size. Not awesome honestly.

Now measurements wise, a loss of about an inch and a half all round would put me firmly in one size. Which in all honesty would be fucking awesome because I a.) can't afford to take everything I buy to a tailor, b.) my sewing skills are not so awesome that I can retailer or redo everything I buy and c.) I don't like or want to spend a shitload of money on nice clothes only to tear them apart..

In a more practical vein of thought, I don't know if losing those who knows how many pounds that would result in about a 1.5" loss of bodily area would be good for me to do. I also don't know if the state of my joints etc would allow for that kind of exercise and eating normally.

Additionally, I would really prefer not to try and live on a starvation level caloric intake in order to achieve a dress size that will not in reality change all that much. I've done it before. I've spent so many hours exercising at points that my caloric intake became negative. And I am too old and care too much about my future health to be doing that to myself.

So, will I or won't I?

I don't actually know yet. I am not making an actual decision until after I finish going through my to be reconned clothes, clothes that I hate and whatnot. I also need to decide how much time I want to devote to said clothes, and speak to my doctor because as we all know if there's already something wrong with your knees, ankles or back you can really fuck yourself up going all exercise crazy nuts.

And I've done it before and don't want to do it again.

That's it.

I'm dating this one today and I'll get to the other stuff on my mind later.

And I think I will probably not post the reflections post I had planned (re this entry), I am too cranky and bitchy. Suffice it to say that I think some of what I said didn't come across how I intended. Also, for the record I have about as much interest in mainstream porn as I do shoving a pine cone up my ass sideways.

Homo out for now.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Navel Gazing and indulgence.

I am feeling quite self indulgent right now.

I haven't been to work since Weds. because where I live I might get a bus to work but probably wouldn't be able to get home and my employer recognizes the suck nature of that.

I am also a little upset because I didn't get to wear my fabulous little black dress and fuschia tights because the holiday party was canceled.

So I've been house bound and pouting.

Except today Uniballer conned me into Snow Bunnying (Yes I made that word up..we were on foot) for some foodstuffs, Thai food (which was delicious, I wish I'd have found the camera case so I could've taken a picture), and a very fruitful trip to Biglots.

A friend commented to me recently after showing me some LJ where I was sort of semi snarked, about just how calm I am about that kind of thing.

I don't think I'm fun to snark or troll.

My usual response is um...okay. Or a head shake. If I'm feeling punchy I might pick apart whatever comment I get but usually not.

My general attitude is that anybody can disagree with me as much as you want.

Call me a fat stupid bitch. Drop the N word.


Fact is I realized way before I ever started doing anything on the internet that some people will do that just to hear themselves squawk, some people have or feel like they have no power in general life so when they get a chance to feel the crotch tingle of power they go left, some people are just assholes.

Also honestly, almost every time I've been lampooned or snarked on the internet the snarker has not actually read what I said.

The most vivid one in memory was a group of people getting "I never exercise" from me saying, "I hate yoga." Now maybe my brain works differently than other peoples but those two statements are not at all the same thing and I wouldn't presume the latter meant the former then go to town on someone for saying it.

I just think that's dumb.

Also, if you want to disagree fine. But don't expect that I might not engage. And unless you start out being a dick chances are I will probably treat you fairly and with respect, but you decide to start dicksizing or not using your reading comprehension abilities I'm done.

If you want to think all fat people are lazy, cheeto snorting, bastards as I've said before, feel free. There isn't a problem until you decide that your opinion means you can harass people, or support people being dehumanized or legislated against for shits and giggles. That is not okay.

I arrived at this mindset over a long windy bumpy road.

When I was a youngster every snide shitty comment, every asshole squawking could induce nuclear rage. These days I know better.

I have better things to expend my energy on.

What else?

OH good news.

Being that I do fucking hate yoga, I've been doing some very gentle stretching during work hours and at home and my back has improved greatly. I don't have quite as much constant tension between my shoulder blades, and my sciatic nerve has calmed down a lot which makes moving far easier.

Unfortunately though for my own safety I am probably not going to be able to walk as much because almost every winter I fall on the ice and hurt myself. I feel like I should not do that, or at least reduce the risk of doing that by being more careful with myself.

You'd think this wouldn't be an agonizing decision but it has been.

My 4-5 miles (cumulative) walking daily has been a cherished thing for me. It pains me emotionally when my physical ability lags behind my psychological wants.

Fact is, I am not getting any younger and my knees are not getting any better. I don't have the optimal tools or access to those tools for more exercise that reduces the impact on my knees so I walk.

I love walking. If you spot me in Seattle, I haul ass. I walk at a pretty good clip even when I'm limping a bit, usually with coffee in one hand. I love it.

I love that slightly breathless, slightly sweaty feeling after a quarter mile.

But I can't always do it.

Or if I do I pay for it with swollen knees and agony going up the six flights of stairs to my apartment.

I will tell you guys the truth, when I can't do, do as in activity, I get depressed still. I think I mentioned this months ago but it's so hard.

I still get angry.

I get angry when I want to come home and bellydance but my knees or back just hurts too bad.

But I'm working on it. I am working on not being pissed at my body and getting a hate on for it when I can't do things that I want to with it.

So for New Years (again) I am going to try not to be such a dick to myself.

I am going to try very hard to take care of myself the way that I need and deserve without rancor.

Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go take a bath, give myself a manicure then wax my eyebrows with my new Nair Green Apple Glitter wax stripes (I will review them on Bugawk at some point) and probably exfoliate my fat ass until it feels like silk.

Be safe, warm and gentle to yourselves my homies and haters.

Homo Out.

Friday, December 19, 2008

The storied history of my my hair.

Before I get to the meaty part of this entry let me say a few things.

A lot of what I'm going to say comes from an emotional rather than rational place. I have no personal issues with the people I'm linking to. Mainly, what I've read sparked me to want to record these thoughts.

Got it?

The entries that got me thinking are these.

This one from Womanist Musings.

And these two from Racialicious.

Please read them the links will open in new windows or tabs.

For perspective I have worn my hair natural, relaxed, very long as a child(down to my ass) very short as an adult (a fade).

As I've aged my hair has changed a lot. From birth up through about 3-4 I had silky straight thick hair. And as an infant due to complications from being premature in pictures I actually look more Hispanic than I do Black. Odd tidbit but true.

As I got a bit older my hair developed a deep S shaped type wave. It grew to be very dense with fine individual strands. That was the same up until I started puberty then my hair started to change texture as is quite usual in my family. For a few years I had regular nappy hair. And after begging and begging and begging for a relaxer my Mom gave me one when I was around 13 or so.

Unlike other Black women I've spoken to it wasn't so much about peer pressure to have a certain kind of hair. I was blissfully essentially unaware it could even be an issue. I really just didn't want to spend whole days sitting still in the kitchen getting my hair washed and braided. Or worse blow dried and curled.

Up to that point people by and large had teased me about my hair, I'd had it pulled, strangers try to yank it straight off of my head. I remember very vividly one Sunday after getting my hair blown dry my Mom let me run around outside for a bit with it down so I'd stop whining and wriggling before she braided it. A little group of older Black girls cornered and grilled me. Why would my Mom let me get a weave? Why was I so dark skinned with such straight hair?

I remember being terrified. I didn't know what a weave was. I didn't understand why they were so angry. And they were very angry.

That kind of anger I became very familiar with. On one hand I would have Black people praise me for my "good" hair. It took years for me to grasp what that might mean. On the other hand there were lots of Black folks (lots in my family) who often without being direct about it hinted that I was somehow less than because of my hair.

Fast forward some years and I started to do things with my hair that were deemed to be "white" things. At some point during puberty I fell in love with big metal hair, big hair in general. A love that continues to this day and I entirely blame early loves of Chaka Khan, Dolly Parton and drag queens. I rocked big puffy mall rat bangs, I rocked some Bettie (R.I.P) bangs, I rocked bangs dyed deep luscious purple. Incidentally my first hair dye love was in fact a color by Pizazz called "Electric Plum".

For my sixth grade pictures I woke my Mother up at zero dark thirty and the two of us armed with crimping irons, crimped my entire head of hair. That I wore half up and half down rocking that ponytail on the side.

Around this age and a little older I started becoming painfully aware of the schism in the Black community around the idea that Blackness is somehow measurable and monolithic. If you do a, b and c you are better than if you do a,q and r. At that age I didn't have the language or experience to express my rage.

I was hurt. I was devastated.

My pain was compounded by being very aware that I lived and moved in a very White area. And to be rejected out of hand by people I (at the time) assumed would be as happy as me to find each other, was heart breaking and terrible.

At that age I would sometimes go a year or more between relaxers and wind up totally natural. The attitudes I was faced with varied as much as my hair texture.

Back to the entries I linked. I have to be honest, my first reaction when reading the entry at Womanist Musing was quick, hurt anger. Even after all these years when the relaxed vs. natural debates come up that is my first reaction. It's usually (in this case as well) not about the person giving whatever opinion. It's generally more about the hurt I feel in my heart that we are still arguing about this.

And that personality flaw I mentioned where people assume their reasons and struggles are my reasons and struggles and I get irritated.

Now after that initial feeling had passed I started to wonder more why do we have to go there?

My hair is currently what is commonly referred to in the hair forums as "texlaxed" it means I do use chemical relaxers to alter the texture of my hair however, I do not relax my hair bone straight. I haven't done that in probably 3-4 years now mainly because I don't like my hair that straight. I don't know what to do with it.

When I shaved off all my hair and was rocking a fade of ever changing color, my vision like Latoya from Racialicious, I was visualizing an afro. I stopped getting my head shaved and watched my hair fill in and grow.

Here is what I discovered to my dismay and private humiliation.

Instead of developing an Angela Davis, ass kicking round little afro. I discovered I have a lot of differening textures in my hair. My Great Grandmother had told me when I was 18 that my hair felt just like hers at that age and that it would change. By the time my Nana passed well into her 70's her natural hair was gorgeous grey with a white stripe and had an elongated S shaped wave much like I had as a baby.

I (who hates overspending on stylists, more so back then) traveled to Portland on Greyhound to consult a lady who claimed to be a specialist in natural Black hair care.

She said to me "You just have too much other in your blood" whatever else she said I can't remember because I was crying. (I hardly ever cry, muchless in public).

I had no idea what to do. I didn't feel comfortable asking family(private reasons, no I'm not going into it but it didn't have to do with my hair) and I had no one to talk to or look to for inspiration. I went as far as trying to approach women I met with natural hair but because of the insanity that is my natural map of textures, many of them felt somehow slighted or insulted.

I tried to persevere and wound up chopping most of it off and rocking a short pixie cut that was dyed many colors and relaxed on occasion.

These days I have finally started to heal myself from some of the hurtful things people have said to me. I have started to learn to remember and remind myself that nobody is the Empress/Emporer of Black Folks thus, they cannot dictate my choices.

Let's talk about my choices.

A few years ago after a disastrous stint on birth control that ended with a shit ton of hair loss and a bald spot I decided to learn to take care of my own hair. Until my bald spot grew back for awhile I rocked a bone straight, bright purple relaxed crew cut.

See below. And let me tells you internets, goddamn do I miss that hair cut and color. I LOVED having my favorite butch hair style and flouncing around in long flowy goth summer dresses. I LOVED IT. However like all love affairs it had to come to an end. You can only bleach your hair so often before it says FUCK YOU.


A moment of silence please.

Now fast forward.

I do not live in an area with a lot of stylists I'd trust. I do not have the extra income to see a stylist weekly or even monthly.

I have learned some incredibly awesome things about my hair.

Regardless of my use of relaxers (at this point 3-5 times a year), my hair is going to be big and fluffy. I have about four curls, the rest varying gradients of waves, and one little section of wee tiny coils. Relaxing my hair as often as I do makes it so that I can take care of my hair to the best of my ability. I can braid and style it when it's all closer to 2-3 textures instead of all of them.

As I'm experiencing my early thirties I can honestly say that I made a very conscious, informed and educated decision to continue relaxing my hair. I did a shit load of research and soul searching and it comes down to this.

The most important lesson I've learned is that it's okay. And even if my feelings are hurt when people decide that having natural hair is "more Black" and more wonderful, I can have my wonderful head of hair and it's fine.

And let me say this.

Relaxed hair does not mean I am bowing to European Beauty standards. There is nothing (as I've mentioned before) that would make me look "more white" and I long ago accepted and embraced that.

My relaxed hair is not ugly, damaged, or an unspoken admission of some internalized racism.

I love my hair.



So in conclusion.

You do you, I will do me.

You with your dreads, afro, curls, waves, weaves, braids, straight, black, brown, big, flat, ironed, coily, hair are beautiful.

We, Black People are beautiful.

And we need to stop arguing about this. How can we expect the rest of the world to respect us as members of the Black community at large and as the diverse individuals that we if, if we can't do that with each other?

At what point do we look at each other and stop with the nonsense?

So to conclude I leave you with my photo paen to my hair.

And the youtube video I made about how to henna your hair.






If you'd like to follow along with my hair care, read some of my home made recipes and remedies feel free to add my hair blog to your friends list on LJ. I will probably be updating it a bit later on tonight.

Now if you'll all excuse me, I've got to rinse the conditioner out of my hair, bantu knot and pout about a.)being snowed under. (Yes I know there's not much snow in Seattle but I am carless and the buses to get to work were not running) b.)the work holiday party being canceled and me not getting to wear my AWESOME outfit.

And a special note to my non-Black homies. I invite you to ask me anything you want to about my hair. Actually all my homies. Ask me whatever you like.

Homo Out.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Lube has a flavor?

Megan asks:

ask since you said you were going to talk about supplies anyway... are there any flavored lubes in existence that do not taste like cat ass? I keep buying the little one-use ones at the sex shop and they always disappoint.

Oookay my darling.

Honestly, I have yet to find a lube that doesn't just taste plain weird. The reason behind that is, it's a really bad idea to use anything for flavor that has actual sugar in it. Pussy does not approve of that.

Many women if their pussies are exposed to sugars (honey, food stuffs, 9 and a half weeks style, holler if you hear me) here is what happens.

Pussy: WTF? What is this fuckery OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG there is a disturbance in the force.

And then, you could be brewing a yeast infection and nobody wants that.

Now I will assume that you're intersted in the flavored lube for oral sex of some sort. I'd ask why?

If your partner is of the pussy having variety, I would ask if there is something about how your partners bits taste that bothers you? Pussy all tastes different, and changes depeneding on where she is at in her cycle, her general health, her diet. If there is something about how your partner tastes that is an issue there are good and not so good ways to deal with that.

If your partner is having health issues of some variety don't bug them about it. No seriously don't. If you're really wanting to get a mouthfull, try using a dental dam until the issue is cleared up.

The respectful way of talking to your partner about taste doesn't happen right before you're about to put your face between their thighs. In my opinion, this sort of conversation should be happening at a non-sexual moment when you're both feeling good.

Use your awesome empathy skills, think about how you'd like to be approached.

Now if this is for your partners benefit (as in the flavored lube is going on your parts) and it's not your first choice, maybe that's a conversation you should have together.

Now if this is for cock parts. I suggest just keeping trying out different lubes until you like how one tastes. Although, I am kind of dubious that anything+cock tastes great. Cock tastes just fine by itself.

If your guy (believe me this works) is maybe kinda sweaty in the junk region there is nothing wrong with saying (I blame American Dad for this) "Give your boys a sink bath and get ready!" if you're excited, the man will be excited. Also guys, remember rinse a lot.

Left over soap film can kind of ruin a blow job. So if you're cruising for one, make sure you get all the soap off of your parts. Especially if you are uncut, roll that foreskin back and make sure you rinse under there super great.

Now all you genital having people.

If you really want extra flavor for your oral spelunking in your partners junk try out some of those sex mints. Now I can't say from experience because I've never used them. But you can try.

I do not suggest rinsing with harsh mouthwash beforehand, no Altoids (they are strong enough the oil in them could potentially burn delicate labia), no honey, no fruit, please do NOT PUT FRUITS, PEELED VEGGIES, OR OTHER HOUSEHOLD NOMS INTO ANYONE'S PUSSY PLEASE.

I don't mean to holler but please don't be doing that. And if you absolutely must do it, make sure (this is probably the only time you'll hear me recommend this) douche with plain water very well. You do not want sugary bits of noms in there. Just don't.

Also if you really just don't like the taste of pussy or your partners pussy in particular this can be overcome.

Get yourself some saran wrap and regular lube, lube up one side of the saran wrap and mold that sticky slick lubed side to your partners pussy which is fun in and of itself. Saran wrap is thin enough and a little lube will contour to her. Safe and fun.

Don't want to taste penis? Use a condom. I will say that I've used some minty non latex ones that were not bad at all.

And as promised some advice about what I think everybody should have in their I'm Gettin Some Tool Box.

Safer sex supplies. Especially if you are in a non-monogamous relationship or are cruising for as much booty as you can get. Things to include, latex (or non latex as you prefer) gloves and rubbers. Also, lube. Pick your sort. I myself kinda dig old fashioned no frills KY. Saran wrap or dental dams.

You may also want to have other stuff on hand.

You may want to have some toys handy. I personally like most of my sexy times supplies to be together in one spot. Maybe get yourself a pretty box for your stuff, a fancy bag, a dedicated drawer in the bedside table. If you have rugrats, use locks or put them where the ankle biters can't get to them.

You might want to have a good clit tickler (POCKET ROCKETS FTW), cock ring(s), insert-able toys, your favorite sexy materials. DVD's, books, pictures whatever.

There is no shame in making sure that when you are about to get down, you are adequately prepared to have yourself a good damn time.

Also have a glass of water and towels handy just in case.

Upshot is, you're only really limited by yourself here. Being ready for fun doesn't make you weird, it doesn't make your sex less spontaneous. Nor does it mean you're a slut in the pejorative sense of the word.

Megan baby if you're still with me, report back from the field. I am actually going to make a trip to the porn/toy store here soon like and I will take some notes and get back to you on what I find.

Also probably Monday or Tuesday I have a new question from a BOY. YEAH.


Which makes me wonder, my average size awesome penis having friend who sent in a question yonks ago, how are you? How is your cock?

Tomorrow I have some thoughts about my entry here. Some are actually kind of bemused thoughts, some are vaguely annoyed, and whatnot.

Also you guys were KILLING me with the rampant noms in the food thread there. Holy HOT DAYUM OM NOM NOM NOM. Also the ass mood I mentioned in that entry was totally my migraine pre-warning system going off like DING DING DING DING BITCH DING DING DING DING.

Migraine is still kicking but controlled.

And lasty some sex related links I want you to see.

Today is International Day To End Violence Against Sex Workers. Sex worker rights and safety is a huge HUGE issue to me. Big enough that I can't really be eloquent about it.

Suffice it to say that I believe that sex workers need to be respected, and sex work needs to be decriminalized for the safety of the workers. And also for the safety of those who don't want to be sex workers. I believe that sentient of age human beings have every right to do sex work if they so desire, and further that they have the same rights as any other worker. I also do not believe in shaming sex workers or demonizing sex work. Okay I should stop there but you see where I'm going.

Anyway, go read TastyTrixie's entry on the subject here. Yeah NSFW and as I've mentioned before I do have a bit of a girl crush on her and her partner Delia.

Also go read Audacia Ray's entry about it here.

Essin 'Em posted a call for submissions. All about the intersections of sexuality and ability to put it in a not so great nutshell. Go check that out.

My Seatown homo homies. The Seattle Gay Scene has an awesome schedule of events for the weekend here.

Also I have a big post about the seeming purity tests of Blackness (oh I will get to it) the idea is coming from some recent posts at Racialicious and the like.

I'm working on it. Actually I might post it later.

Okay enough.

Happy Sexing whether it be solo, group, or a fantastic duet in Hot Ass Major. Enjoy yourself. Be safe.

Homo Out.


Monday, December 15, 2008


Okay really, I realize that tis the season to apparently be stressed out over everything including the size of your ass but people have been saying ridiculous things to me lately.

Today it's unwanted, plain stupid advice enty.

Situation of assness #1. I was in Starbuck's last week and a woman spots me adding a single Splenda to my coffee, then proceeds to trail me out of the store yammering.

Her:"Good for you, you should watch your sugar."

Me: *Blink...blink* (Here is what I am thinking "Do I fucking know you?" However my brain mouth filter was working that day so I actually said, "excuse me?"

Her: "Blablablabla, gonna get the diabeetus, Black folks, heredity"

Me: "No one in my immediate family is diabetic nor do they have high blood pressure and it's none of your business what I do or don't eat."

Her: *Off in a huff of butthurt*

Now I was actually pretty polite to her. But I swear to fluffy bunnies if one more stranger lectures me about my sugar intake they are getting throat punched.

Fact is, I have tried cutting sugar entirely out of my diet and guess what happened once I was through the "detoxing" portion? I fainted, I got dizzy a lot. I consulted a doctor who told me to not do that anymore because I already have an issue with my blood sugar taking nose dives. Which can lead to what? Fainting and dizziness.

I know right? What's this someone fat who actually needs to eat more often?

What the fuck.

I know. Frankly this isn't usually the sort of thing I share with people.

Since I was quite young I have had a problem recognizing and effectively doing something about realizing when I need to eat. Sometimes, I don't realize I need to eat until I'm dizzy or feel shitty as a result of low blood sugar. Sometimes I assume it's thirst and have some water or tea or whatever.

At times this has been a really serious problem and it's one of the few things the doctor I broke up with so to speak and I ever agreed on. And I really don't need to or want to explain that to perfect strangers.

Nor do I need or want to explain to strangers that sometimes, I'd just rather have not sugar than actual sugar depending on what else I've had or am going to have that day. Given my sweet tooth of junkie proportions, sometimes I do need to check myself for sugar consumption because I get all cracked out not so much because OMG AM FAT GUNNA GET TEH DIABEETUS.

Situation of assness#2. Picture yours truly visibly limping at a pretty fast clip trying to make my bus. Woman who is also getting on the same bus tells me (after watching me fucking LIMP) that I should take up running. We get on the bus and i tell her (again very politely) that I have joint problems and can't run. Apparently this expert on degenerating joints seems to think that running will make the issue go away.

What? WUT? Do I need to even explain how dumb that is?

I do not understand the notion that as a stranger I could ever feel free to comment willy nilly on what another person is eating, how I think they exercise or don't. Granted I might tell someone that something they are eating looks yummy.

Furthermore I am not a child, I am not your child and I don't need you to police my life. Nor do I need or want random "help" from people who don't appear to give a shit about my health one way or the other.

Now if someone does in fact care, you might instead of recommending an activity that would in all likelihood fuck up my body even more, if you saw me limping away, maybe ask "hey are you okay?".

This speaks to people deciding another person's ability based on a glance. And the fact is there are lots of different levels of ability and mobility, there could be things going on that you cannot see. Don't assume it's fucking rude.

Generally speaking people assuming whatever about me and going with that thought because it's what they perceive to be true all the time, can really set me off. Whether it's about ability, weight, race, sexual orientation whatever.

I take it personally when someone doesn't respect me enough not to assume I am part of the monolith of whatever, and ask me what I think or feel.

Especially if it's someone I know or respect. Maybe that's yet another personality flaw but I get really pissed off.

No really atomic pissed off to the point where I question my prior impressions of the person and want to confront them about it. I have learned as I've gotten older to be less combative about it when it's someone I care about, but that instant red rage is still there for a minute.


Okay so I admit I am kind of pissed off today for reasons that have nothing to do with what I'm talking about. And I am doing some self soothing.

Tomorrow the flavored lube debate (sexytimes advice my homies) and an unsolicited opinion on what you need in your sexytimes toolbox.

Homo Out.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Cheese is a dirty bitch.

Let me tells you internets, I love cheese.

No I really fucking love cheese but most cheese does not love me back.

You see, I am lactose intolerant to varying degrees. Sometimes I can eat my cheese and I'm fine and I'm happy. Other times, holy shit watch out world don't near my ass.

Thus, cheese is a dirty bitch.

I bring this up because on my way to work the wind absolutely demolished my umbrella in a ten second bi-directional gust that almost knocked me down. So I went to Starbucks and got a cheese plate.

Cheese plates are among my top ten list of culinary anti-depressants. My perfect cheese plate must include brie, apples, grapes, at least one good very sharp cheddar and some bonus tasty bit. This one in particular came with the requisites and cubes of a mediocre assiago. But it did have green and red grapes, and crackers. It is delicious.

I bring this up because I want to talk about soul food.

Soul Food is not strictly a Black thing. I have watched enough travel and food shows to put that idea right out the window.

Soul Food is food someone who loves you makes for you when you've had a bad day. When you're sick and cranky (like me, yes STILL sick what kind of shit is that?), when you are inconsoleable because you lost your wallet, fell down, someone hurt your feelings.

Soul Food is what your partner hands you when you come home and you're soaked to the bone cold and angry.

Soul Food is what you eat after someone close to you has passed away and people feed you.

Soul Food has emerged from the tables of poor people around the world and has taken over.

Soul Food is the stuff that makes it better when nothing is okay.

If the weather weren't so gross I'd send Uniballer out for the makings of Shepherd's Pie and lots of beer.

So instead I am going to sit and drink gunpowder green tea, pop my last bite of creamy brie and crisp sweet apple in my mouth and try to relax.

Fact is folks, I have been in a murderously, have to try really hard not to commit felonious assault mood for the past two days because I still don't feel good. And the barrage of cold medication has made my appetite weird and given me gastric distress of epic proportions.

It is just not fair to be coughing and snotty and have the runs. Just not fair.

I am also going to get to work on my next big writing thing.

I am putting together (read: struggling and whining while writing) a collection of autobiographical essays that I am going to self publish.

Scary shit.

But I'm doing it.

So while I am in STAB STAB STAB mood, tell me about your Soul Food. Provide recipes if you like. Share with me, share with each other, it's good for us.

Homo Out.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

The things people say to me.

First thing yesterday I seriously misspelled Lesley's name and have to go edit that. Ugh I HATE it when I do that. She is a Lesley not a Leslie.

Anyway I received what I'm assuming was a well intentioned little letter thingy via the advice form and I decided to address it publicly since the sender did so anonymously.

This person commented on something I said awhile back (no I couldn't find the exact post) about the pervasive "thin whiteness" of many of the sex oriented places I frequent on the internet. The upshot of the comment was apparently this person doesn't understand what I mean.

Okay let me preface the following with this.

For perspective I am a Black fat queer woman. I have spent time with kinky people, I have had non kinky lovers and companions. I am sex positive. I am very in favor of people getting their happy tingles in whatever way they deem necessary as long as it doesn't involve children or animals.

Further my intention here isn't to be a nit picky asshole. My aim is to maybe give people a view that they might not have, a window.

I am going to try and be mindful of the fact that there are a lot of people for whom these issues are non-issues. A lot of people who have never thought about it, or who might feel they are being picked on which is not my intention here at all.

We all on the same page?


I frequent, look at, examine and read a lot of things that are about sex and sexuality. Books, blogs, photo websites, occasionally magazines when they catch my eye. I don't take in these things and analyze them. I'm not always just looking for the crotchal area tingle.

Unfortunately in the past few years I've become less and less able to simply overlook inequities and the things that just make me uncomfortable.

For instance.

I read a ton of sex blogs regularly. Some of them are personal blogs, some of them are corporate, some of them are there for titillation, information etc.

Save for a few instances, the constant (as with seemingly everything in America) images and ideas put forth as The Sexy, are thin white people. Muscley muscle men, rib showing ladies who from the tits down often look prepubescent. Those who are deemed hot enough are frequently cheered on to do or say things that are fucked up or outright mean.

Yes, I realize that a lot of this has to do with marketing and profit and money etc.

That does not stop me from feeling on a personal level a sting of outright rejection out of hand.

I do not belong in this club.

I am not a thin white lady.

Rationally I am fully aware that no it's not personal. However, that does not stop me from my interest waning.

Additionally, when the supposed "alt" scenes (not just the "alt" as in tattoos etc but those who are supposedly considered out of the mainstream) seem to subscribe fully to the mainstream ideals and ways of sexuality I personally feel a tad let down. That is probably a personality flaw, I acknowledge and own that.

My view these days is that if you are presenting yourself as some outsider, indie type make an effort to do that.

Again please remember that these are my feelings and impressions I am not trying to present this to you as fact.

Lately, my interest in a lot of the sexuality oriented material I've been reading has waned further. I really cannot maintain an interest if I don't relate at all.

The problem is not bloggers, or content producers individually. Everyone has their tastes and their niches, the problem is the difficulty in finding those other voices and images. It's difficult for me to get behind or want to be involved in new ventures or communities that on a superficial look have nothing to do with anything that I am or ever have been.

I will be the first person to admit that being the other, or first different person to bust in and say OH HAY CHECK ME OUT, is not something I'm really into. I don't have the patience to deal with it honestly.

If I never hear things like the following (which people have said to me on the internets recently)

"I'm not really into black chicks..."
"But you're not really fat..."
"No, I don't mean you .."

It's annoying. It's tiring.

There are times when I really don't need to be reminded that regardless of the otherness of a particular community etc, that I am the extra super other.

It's hard.

What can be done?

If I had my way, more people would be mindful of these things. And when I say mindful I do not mean by any stretch of the imagination that everyone has to love and welcome my fat Black ass, but I would like people to take a second to have a touch of empathy and step into these shoes for a second.

See these things, your own work through my eyes for a quick minute. I've told you how I feel, exercise your brain matter.

Maybe, realize when you say things that disparage people based on their body size, or your own body size that it is alienating. That quite possibly, you of the open mind are not being cool.

Do I want everyone to suddenly wanna fuck fatties, and Black chicks?


Again, I say keep your tastes, do your thing, be who you are.

Just be aware that your entire audience may not be who you think they are. Be aware that, yes what seems to be a passing remark or trend of remarks can hurt people you might want to not hurt.

Yes I know, somebody is going to snark me. Someone is going to think this is bullshit and I don't really care. What I hope is that somebody gets it, if one person reads this and says to themselves "oh wow, I never thought about that." then proceed to think about it.

That's it.

Feel free to comment, point and laugh etc.

Homo Out.

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Of Oprah's and merchandise.

As promised, to answer Twistie's question about the meme.

I would love to know how you saved someone's life and what famous person (people) you've met.

Okay the life I saved was a very good friend of mine who has since died. At the time his drug problem was really bad. I was at his apartment hanging out and he verged on OD'ing. I stuck my fingers down his throat, got fluids into him and kept him awake for about twenty hours until he came down and was back to semi normal. He went to rehab not long after that and was sober for about another two years prior to committing suicide.

As for the famous person I'll tell you a nice story.

I went to go see Tricky once with a buttload of my friends. And because we didn't know better we did our drugs a bit too early and before the start of the show were tripping balls. We were lolling about near the venue, doing very puppyish things. Crawling on each other, laying on each other. If you've watched that super evil super cute puppy cam you know what I'm saying.

So there we were, high little puppies and we see this wee tiny man in a big white faux fur coat walking towards us smoking a cigarette. He got close and there was a group squee. It was the man himself. He was smiling at us, told us he was freezing his tits off and handed out hugs. He also admonished us to be careful, drink water and enjoy the show.

And because we didn't know better (no I really don't advocate doing this) we did more drugs, resumed our highness and enjoyed the shit out of the show. Meanwhile I had a bit where I was standing on a bit of black and white checkered floor, tripping balls again and telling people not to walk on the black squares because I didn't want them to fall in. I was protecting my homies from the linoleum abyss.

Now in case you don't read my LJ or follow me on Twitter.

OMG OMG OMG I got my new glasses and they are MOTHERFUCKING AWESOME!! Go look at the picture here.


Next up.

Apparently the big news is that Oprah gained weight back.

I have to be honest here I don't give a good goddamn about Oprah's ass. From the time she toted out a little red wagon full of fat and wore that outfit, I have not cared. Why?

I cannot relate to Oprah. I couldn't back then I can't now.

I don't relate to having my own personal chefs, personal trainers, meals delivered to my house, celebrity doctors watching every morsel I try to eat. Nope.

I really can't get down with a lot of things I've read her saying etc. Just not my bag.

To put a finer point on it, yes I do think Oprah has done some great things. However her relentless MAKE YOURSELF BETTER AT ALL COSTS (that is my impression of some of her ideology) just bugs me. I don't subscribe to the idea that one must aggressively reduce one's number of perceived flaws.

Like TR I don't think of my body in terms of flaws. Further, I don't think of my soul or my essence or my entire personhood in terms of things I can make better.

I don't see anything wrong with wanting to do better or be better. What I question though is the often blind YES I MUST DO THIS TO BE A BETTER PERSON thing.

I hate to see people running after these things without sitting down and really examining them.

Do you really need to go out and buy special books to learn to be a positive thinker? Do you need to bumrush the products and guru's that Oprah follows to be a good person? Is doing any of these things going to put you on the path to Oprah like gazillionaire status?

Probably not.

I also don't like the idea of promoting these things in such a clearly class oriented manner.

If you're an Oprah devotee, there is a glass ceiling.

A lot of the things she promotes, loves, hands out to her guests, and promotes cost a shit ton of money. Let me give you an example.

A lot of people when they are serious hard core fans of someone or something want to promote the brand/person/idea with logo's and whatnot. "O" fans can for just 100$ get a tracksuit with the O logo on it.

Speaking from the POV of the working poor type. Honestly no matter how much I loved Oprah if I did, I would not be able to afford spending 100 bones on a track suit. And if I was the sort of hardcore fan who feels bad about not being able to support the brand that would seriously bother me. Maybe I'd save up for it, or maybe I'd put it on a credit card or something. But really is that helping your cause?

If you're the type of devotee who wants to get on whatever program to be better, I imagine that having this kind of conundrum might really bother you.

This is one of those issues that's pretty personal to me.

As much time as I've spent being the working poor, sometimes there is nothing worse for my sanity than when I just can't afford to support causes I care about.

Yes, when you're poor even donating five dollars sometimes can be the difference between eating for two days and not eating for two days. And that really sucks.

It's a tough thing.

Now for some links yes? Yes.

First one, I discovered the Queers United Blog through Twitter. And I cannot even express to you how much I think Dr. Phil is a fucking douche bag. This is just one more reason why.

I read this entry over at Womanist Musings and I feel like I should talk about the issue, but I don't know if I can without furious anger. Her entry is really good you should read it.

Go tell the lovely Essin 'Em Happy Birthday.

Violet Blue has new blogs. Violet Blue's San Francisco here. And Art Machines. Which I think is nifty but don't really understand. Here.

Leslie is doing an awesome giveaway over at Go read about it and enter here.

Meowser's Chinese Buffet experience is a tasty read go read it here.

Debauched Domestic Diva (another recent find) blogs about why she got involved with the NYCSexBloggers Pin up Calender. See that here.

Total aside..I am snacking on dried spicy squid. One of my solid delights, this brand is from Thailand and I just got the most amazing mouthfull and perfect balance of sweet and spicy ever.

Goose posted what I think is a perfect PMS dinner recipe. I seriously stood up and went, YES YES YES.

There is a lovely review of Seattle's Black Nativity over at Seattle Queer. Go look.

I was lucky enough to see that years ago and it was beautiful.

Enough link flinging.

I have smut and sex advice to write.

Next sexy topic up, tasty lubes. I will give my inexpert opinion.

Also I'll probably do a review of Mac's Studio Fix foundation over at the Cheekan this week sometime.

That's it.

Go forth and have a snack.

Homo Out.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Chica my darling.

My Darling Chica sent me this question. Keep them coming my sexed up homies. I got my databse rebuilt and it is accident proof.

I'm having trouble with being able to get my boyfriend inside me on the first try, like for some reason every time I try to get on top of him his penis doesn't just go in, like I have to stop and like do this whole maneuver thing and it's awkward and kills the moment for me....I just want to know if there's anything I can do that will make it easier, to be quite honest it makes me feel like I'm being a bad lover because it looks like I don't know what I'm doing. Help if you can. Thanks.

Dearest darling Chica,
First of all YES you are doing it right! RIGHT!

Second of all you are absolutely not a bad lover sweetheart. You are perfectly normal. I will tell you from lots of experience (I LOVE being on top, and have for more than a decade so I've done the field research) that the porno movies are often incorrect and most of us don't get a bullseye on the first try.

Think of it this way. Unless you are super bendy, you have probably never quite seen your pussy from that angle, nor tried to get something in there from that angle.

Here's what I think you need to do.

First, take a breath and relax. He is totally seriously happy you're there. Believe me baby.

Next. Ease up on yourself. Sex is not serious business. Things happen. And it is perfectly okay to have an oops moment, have a giggle and keep on trucking.

But for the practical advice. When you get on top of your man, while you're getting into your preferred position, give your pussy a nice rub with his cock. If you are at all made like me in the crotchal region, your inner labia may be swollen with arousal therefore making the entrance to your pussy a little harder to get to. No sweat.

My favorite move, rise up on your knees a little, rub your partner where it feels good then, use your fingers to spread your labia, rub your partner between them until you hit the spot then ride to glory my homie.

Also try using a squeeze of lube along your inner labia or on the tip of your partners penis. Not a whole lot just enough to ease entry.

And I am willing to bet that you're having some anxiety. And when you're anxious you can tighten up and that can make getting your partner inside you a little more difficult. Breath, relax. And remember, you are doing it right.

Dykes, you too can use this info. I expect a full report from the field people.

The bottom line Chica, your skillz are not lacking. You like most every other woman are not able to get on top and smoothly like whoa, get your partner inside you in one try. I can't. Most of the women I've been with haven't. You aren't alone, you aren't weird, you are beautiful normal and hot.

So here is my challenge to you my darling, armed with some new info I want you to get all horned up, get on that man and ride him like he doesn't even KNOW what is going on. Then when you are spent and glowing, turn to your man and say, "HELL YEAH!" Take a nap, maybe have a snack, then walk around the next day with one of those knowing little smiles.

Now as for the rest of you.

The above, that is your homework too and yes there will be a quiz. Naw but no seriously go have some fun. It's cold in much of the world and why not spend the winter doing things that make you have a special tingle?

More questions? Awesome send em.

Also folks, I have some stuff to recommend from my personal stash of sexy times supplies. I'll probably do that later this week. Now that I'm finally out of the cold induced fog I've been in I can concentrate to do it. Also, a little reminiscing. And if you're real nice I'll tell you about one of my laughter inducing, should have been embarrassing sexual misadventures.

Until then.

Go forth, have orgasms. Lots of them. Love your genitals. Pet them daily.

Homo Out.


Meme place holding.

Bold the stuff you've done meme stolen from OTM. Got my new glasses today and they rock. This here entry is a place holder while I answer Chica's sexytimes question.

1. Started my own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band

4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than I can afford to charity

7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sung a solo

11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched lightning at sea
14. Taught myself an art from scratch

15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown my own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping

27. Skied a marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset

31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors (Some of them yes.)
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught myself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had my portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater

55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi concentration camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar

72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had my picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible

86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one

94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake =
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Ridden an elephant

To make it a little more fun, feel free to ask about any of the bolded and swearsies if there is a story I will tell it.

Stay tuned for sexy times later I promise.

Also some hair porn.

Homo Out.


Friday, December 05, 2008

Of bondage and fatness and other things I wonder about.

Wordy title good lord.

And I have been thinking about bondage today. The sexy kind naturally.

I have to confess something.

The only thing that would impel me to do yoga on a regular basis would be for increased flexibility in order to be tied up in awesome knots.

No really.

I used to do yoga regularly. In my early twenties actually. However I can admit now that it wasn't for the glow or the supposed awesome (I never GOT the fucking glow) feelings, it was because I was dating a girl off and on who liked to turn me into a wee baby lesbo pretzel while we were fucking. Had it not been for her bendy antics, I would have never done yoga more than twice.

Even then, when I was quite thin I still fucking hated yoga.

While I'm confessing things.

Frankly if being tied up in some awesome permutation I might actually take up yoga.

Although what I really have a yearning to do is an upside down suspension which would probably nor require more flexibility than I have.

Also on the list of things I'm curious about but probably not quite enough to seek out at this point.

Artistically and aesthetically speaking I'd like to explore my boot fetish more. I think I may or may not have mentioned that before but yes, I do have a bonafide boot fetish. As in wearing them and seeing them on other folks.

Which segues nicely into my constant want to make some kind of neat art. Fetishy sexual art. Photographs mostly. My ability however is far outpaced by my desire and I am having to go slower than I'd like.

Art is one area I haven't done a lot of self exploration in and I am excited to do it. To this end I purchased myself a pro flickr account and have been jotting down ideas.

Keep an eye out for that.


Yeah I'm so tired. Still kind of sick, very tired. Glad it's friday.

More later.

Homo Out.


Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Irritated Fat Girl.

I'm still kind of sick and very cranky.

I'm not going to post links but this is a trend in some of the blogs, and other websites I visit and it is pissing me off.

Okay so let's say for shits and giggles that you have some grassroots/activism thing going and you have tshirts for sale to support your cause. Why is it 80 times out of 100 the uber fab lady loving supposedly inclusive and awesome organizations said tees are pimping, only go up to a girly XL?

Now being that I'm seeing this more and more I can deduce several things once I'm past the majority of my irritation. Either a.) the tshirt suppliers people are using run small b.) people don't think to be inclusive of those who don't fit into an XS-XL girly tee size range neatly c.) There is a dearth of big titty fat girls searching for said tees.

Call me a cranky bitch but if you're going to be all YAY FOR TEH WIMMINS and whatnot, should you not pay attention to what you're offering and who you're not allowing into the club so to speak?

Granted I could email every single one of these people but, I quite honestly don't want to. I mostly don't want to because I don't want the fucking shirts that bad. And admittedly, if I can't play with the rest of the kids I'll go find another fucking sandbox. The latter is probably more of the cranky sickness speaking up.

I really hate it when 98% of me wants t donate to a cause I think is worthwhile and awesome, but then that niggling angry 2% wants to say, fuck you and your cause.

Hopefully after I'm feeling better and less cranky in general I can get it together enough to write polite emails to some of these people.

In less aggro news I have put together a KICK ASS outfit for this years office Xmas party. All that's left for me to find is shoes.

Here is my dilemma my homies.

Do I suffer discomfort and possible drink induced falls to wear some hot ass heels? Or do I go cute but more sensible? I saw a pair of just slightly too high heels that I am in serious crotch tingling lust with but, the possibility of falling and tearing my new dress is a little too high.

I will probably wind up finding a happy medium.

I think I'm spent. It's time for more medication and I should probably find something to eat.

OH and if you're on the new Shapely Prose community thing be my friend. I'm Shannon there.

Homo Out.

PS..Chica, I will get to your question as soon as I'm not pissed off and sick.

Monday, December 01, 2008

Life in the fat Lane.

So I live. I got really sick over the holiday weekend. Which was really a kick in the ass because it was the first time in my adult life that I was actually given a whole holiday weekend off without it already being my day off. And I spent most of it hacking, coughing, grumbling and growly.

Also the fact that cold medications (Nyquil, theraflu, tylenol cold etc) give me major gastric distress no matter what, was wholly reinforced. My body which is already cranky said, OMGWTFBBQ!!!1!1!!!!!! INTRUDER INTRUDER.

So yeah.

In other news I think I forgot to link it but the ever fabulous M. Christian posted one of my super short erotica bits over at Frequently*Felt. Also awesome is the post titled "Love" that commercial straight up makes me teary.


Also awesome I've been on a bargain binge and bought a lot of tights on the ebay. AWESOME.


Yeah I'm exhausted but YAY I got yer question in the sexytimes inbox my friend and I will answer when I'm not stupid on medication.

Also FYI, having the ebola and a not so happy digestive system is made of fail entirely.

Wow okay I was going to actually have a point but I am tired and slightly dizzy.

And I just called my computer an assbeast out lout.

Homo Out.

I will return when I am coherent.


Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Happy Fatty.

Thanksgiving isn't really my bag. I am going to stay in my jammies, hang out with Uniballer and eat pie.

So i want to talk about other stuff.

First I have to tell you a story.

I knew these two women a long time ago, two very different women. One thin one fat. I never introduced them to each other but I think of both of them at the same time when the mood strikes.

They both had one major thing in common. They were appalled and angry that I had good self esteem at the time. I was actually a bit heavier then than I am now. Probably by a good 20-25 pounds, had the most adorable hair cut ever and felt like I was the Sparkly Special hotness to the person that counts, myself.

I've actually encountered this more than I'd like to say in my life. People who are so miserable themselves, that they have been angry with me, who is in their eyes so fantastically unacceptible (fat) that I should not, EVER be happy about it.

Every time I hear that sentiment my initial reaction is, yes you got it a big ole middle finger.

If you are the kind of person who seriously begrudges another human being their happiness, fuck you running.

Life is goddamn hard enough as I think we all know. No matter what the size and state of your ass is, there is a lot to worry about day to day.

This is fuckery with which I will not put up.

Don't be mad at my fat ass because I enjoy myself, for myself. Don't be mad because I am not taking the haters and bullshit to heart.

Fuck that.

Quite frankly if you are already a miserable mother fucker, it is not my fault.

I am sorry that you are miserable but i will not take responsibility for it, nor will I allow anyone to rub that all over me because they think they can and that I should be miserable too.

At a loss?

Here is what you do, this is what I do to reinforce myself against the bullshit.

1.) Stand up, no do it right now. Or if you can't stand up sit up. Raise your dominant hand, crank up your middle finger. Because quite frankly fuck it. Whatever it is, fuck it.

2.) Get a theme song. No I'm not kidding. This is going to be your soundtrack. it will play in your head according to your mood. See the following videos.

This plays in my head some mornings. Straight out of bed, when I am getting ready for work. It's motivational.

When I am feeling a little I will knock you the fuck out feeling. It's this one.


When I am getting my sexy on, when I am in the mood to strut. Yes I DO this sometimes. This silly ass song has got the perfect beat.

Maybe this is an artifact of me being a highly musical person. But my theme songs ALWAYS make me feel better if I'm not feeling awesome.

3.) Spend a little time doing something absurd. If you take yourself too seriously you are probably going to feel crappy. Laugh at yourself. My usual absurdity of choice is random booty shaking to silly music, or just because I feel like it. I'm not talking about skilled ZOMFG AWESOME dancing, nope. You don't even need any rhythm and I won't laugh. Find music you like, wiggle hind quarters and the rest will follow. do it with your children, do it with your lover, do it with your friends. Have a happy dance that you will bust out when the mood strikes.

4.) Take yourself on a date occasionally. go out or stay in, but spend some time loving yourself. Maybe that involves some fine chocolates, wine and a nap. Maybe a long bath, a good book and a nap. Maybe you just want to get yourself drunk and take advantage of yourself. If you are going to be nice to someone, be nice to yourself.

5.) Do not be afraid of or ashamed of your hotness. If you are wearing an outfit that you feel like you are the Hot. Motherfucking. Sex in. WORK IT. Do not be embarassed if people don't like it. Do not be ashamed if someone says it's clashy and makes your belly look big. Fuck em. Hold your head up, shoulders back and work it. Another video interlude but follow these instructions:

You get me? Put a switch in those hips.

6.) Breath, love, laugh. Laugh a lot. Laugh because it's all fucked up. Laugh because people are fucking assholes. Laugh because you still can.

I will leave you with more video inspiration.

So in conclusion.

I love you. You love you. Go forth, shake your ass, laugh until you have to hobble to the bathroom or pee yourself. Fall of your couch laughing, snorf beer all over. Be happy. Be healthy as you can be. But most of all, stay your beautiful fabulous selves.

Your Sparkly Fat Ass Homo.


Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Words and coffee.

So I have an official youtube channel now. There is only one video so far, I had to dumb down and use the simplest slideshow to video software I could find. See that here.

And feel free to be my friend on the youtube, subscribe. Point and laugh.

The plan is that until uniballer and I figure out a good way of filming that doesn't involve me throwing a temper tantrum, I'll be doing some slideshow tutorials. The first one is a henna tutorial. I'm going to finish processing the pictures tonight and put it up tomorrow I think.

Have I talked about my new glasses? See them here. They aren't here yet but I am super excited.


Right o.

How about some Tuesday T.M.I?

1. What is your favorite Thanksgiving food? Pie.

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Which one will it be? Um..I actually wouldn't wipe anything out. Whatever it is, it might not rev me up but someone digs it.

3. You seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Holy crap, a hundred bucks! How are you gonna spend it? It depends on the day. I might hoard it for later enjoyment or, have a fabulous meal. However right this instant I would buy some awesome shoes.

4. What is your favorite curse word? Fuck.

5. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anytime in the PAST. What time are you traveling to and what are you going to do when you get there? Um, if I didn't have to come back I would probably go on a time space breaching fuck fest across history.

Bonus (as in optional):You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What's it gonna be? Um, I think I would have to go for either flight or being able to explode people's heads a la Scanners.

We all know that I adore seeing photos of people. Over at Men In Full there are some really adorable pictures of a happy looking couple that made me smile.

Von Livid posted some amazing pictures of Grace Jones over at House of Bias. You have no idea how much I love Grace Jones. I remember being a little kid and trying to suntan my way to her dark beautiful skin tone.

Ah memories.

I've been waxing nostalgiac about my childhood lusts for awhile.

Back to Nanowrimo.

Also remember my darlings, anytime is a good time for pie.

Homo Out.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

I am not Afraid.

There are many things in life I fear.

I have an abject and physical terror of slugs.

Also the sound of breaking glass can bring about a dread fear and near tears.

What I am not afraid of is myself. I am not afraid of how I present myself to the world and how the world at large might react.

I am not afraid to say fuck in mixed company.

I am not afraid to be strange and occasionally plain freakish.

i am not afraid because, it's not necessary and life is hard enough.

I'm not afraid that you might hate me.

See Katt Williams for my feelings on that.

I am not afraid because I am fragile.

I am not afraid because I am breakable and a squishy human.

I am not afraid because I am not alone.

I am not afraid because I can be alone and that is fine.

Will be back to regular blogging activities soon.

Nanowrimo is eating my soul.

Homo Out.


Monday, November 17, 2008

Wandering brain waves.

So I know the blogging has been light I blame nanowrimo entirely.

I've been quietly reading some of the various skirmishes in the Fat communities and several things pop right out at me.

Personally I think some of it boils down to a few root problems.

I think that there are some people who view these fat communities (whichever one is your flavor) as being 'safe space' thus they are sacrosanct and everyone is playing by the same set of rules.

Clearly this is not so.

We all know by now that I myself, me personally (again I am not Queen Fat of all Fatassia) don't really like the whole idea of safe space. I think a space can be supportive and wonderful and give you a happy in your brain place however, I do think that safe space can over coddle us to the point where functioning and transitioning into a outside the internet activist can be stunted.

Now when it comes to Fatshionista in particular I went back and forth about posting outfits there. Now generally speaking I just don't. Mainly because it's really difficult not to be rude when people make assy comments.

Those nit picky, your camera/picture taking ability/area you take the picture in sucks so I won't give an opinion passive aggressive bullshit.

Granted there isn't a lot of that but I have a very limited capacity to deal with it even in small doses.

Also, a lot of the time Fatshionista at large seems to lack a sense of humour about the fatshions. My last outfit post I made specific mention of being rumpled after a two hour commute most of which was spent on a bus and people felt the need to point it out anyway. That kind of I won't read what you said but comment annoys me.

Also if I see one more persons outfit called juvenile I'm going to holler.

I don['t have much use for the "rules" of fashion one way or another. As we all know (and if you're new) I have a kind of sometimes absurd fashion sense that is awesome.

Also the constant chorus of better bra, better bra. What if your bra is just fine and you just don't feel the necessity of making sure your boobs are always up and perky? That has to be one of my least favorite bits of "constructive criticism" ever. Boobs do not always h ave to be symmetrical and perky.

So yeah. I still enjoy the community in spirit and some of the posters I find to be made of awesome but more often than not I skip reading the comments, make my comment and run. If I really wanna post outfits I will do it in my personal LJ. That way I won't get myself banned by calling someone a fucking dick.

I don['t know what changed. When I first joined Fats it seemed like there was more room for a more diverse aesthetic and not so much fashionz is srs bizness.

I think also my viewpoint has changed a bit. I am simply disinterested in mainstream fashion entirely. Which I've only just (I know I know how slow can I be) realized. I don't care what the rules are. I love Tim Gunn but we would have one hell of a bitch fight if he threw away some of my treasured silly goth frippery. There would be tears and probably some cat fighting.

That said, I am interested in seeing other people whos fashion insterest is different than mine, rocking the fuck out of their clothes. Yes I do. Yes I might really hate one thing, but it does make me happy to see someone feeling fat and sassy and awesome rocking what they are wearing.

So yeah.

Did I have a fucking point?

I totally did but I've lost it now.

Oh no wait right.

My actual point was before the fatshionista digression is that, we are not all playing by the same set of rules in the fat community.

For instance.

In many places along the Fatosphere highway, there are things that are not to be discussed. We all know this.

There are people who may or may not approve your comments.

There are people who do not like to be disagreed with.

That's fine.

I think sometimes people forget that once you are out of your own sandbox (your blog, forum or whtaever) there might be a divergence of ideas. Having one thing in common does not necessarily mean we are all going to have the same opinions.

For instance, this is my sandbox.

You can disagree with me, you can talk about your diet as in what you eat on a daily basis or your diet as in what is shrinking your ass.

My only rule is don't be a douchebag, and if you are going to be a douchebag or troll don't think you won't get called on it. I have only ever deleted two comments in the what's it been something like 6 years I've been keeping an online journal on the internets.

The first case was way back in my diary-x days and a crush had left her very personal info in my comments by mistake and I deleted it as soon as I'd gotten said info.

The second was some weird internet pharmacy potentional spyware shit that I didn't want my readers to click accidentally.

I've never deleted another comment.

Incidentally I sometimes think that's why it's rare that I get trolled in a public manner. It's just not fun.

That said. If you absolutely have to troll I can't p0romise I'll be so upset I'll delete and flounce off of the intertubes in a butthurt way, I might make fun of you (use spell check), I might dissect what you say. I might ignore it.

Um yeah I am procrastinating something awful today.

For the latest excerpt from the epic smutfest that is my nanowrimo novella see here at my lj.

Keep an eye out for my first hair related tutorial to go on the Cheekan. (You are totally supposed to say that out loud with some happy glee like in that The Fifth element, if you've seen it you know eactly what I'm talking about), it is going to be epic so it's going to take some work. EPIC.


Also some new make up pics coming soon.

Now back to the salt mines.

And I still love you guys.

Homo Out.

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