Friday, February 27, 2009

The State of the Shannon.

I will be turning 32 in a little over a couple of weeks and traditionally around my birthday I start navel gazing a bit.

I can honestly say I'm a little, not disappointed exactly but exasperated maybe with myself. I really cannot believe that it's taken me until I'm in my thirties to get actually serious about writing.

I've been writing since I was a child. I wrote my first spontaneous not school assigned poem when I was eight or nine, my first outside of school publication when i was 17. It was a poem entitled something like "Lit High" or something like that. I do remember that it was a part of this series I wrote trying to get across my own literary high using junkie terms.

I used a terrible pseudonym because my seriousness about writing was a secret. Lots of people knew I wrote but not how serious of a thing it was for me.

Fast forward over a decade and here I am.

I am now a blogger, a fat blogger, a sex blogger, a personal blogger, etc. I still write my stories, I am only now being at all serious about trying to get published. I have been published off and on for a decade but, I always got scared.

Up until just a couple of years ago I didn't believe that I had what's known as a voice. I knew I had things to say but I wasn't at all sure anyone wanted to hear it the way I tell it.

I realized at some point that yes, a lot of the time I like to express things in twisted strange ways. I like to write violent sexy stories, I like to write about things that make other people squirm. And that is just fine.

Perhaps, age has finally lent me some grace.

What age and experience has lent me finally is acceptance.

I have accepted and embraced most of the foibles of my body. Sometimes I still get angry because my joints don't function in a way I find pleasing all the time, or because my back ties itself in knots that make it hard to sleep.

I accepted finally that only via dangerous and unhealthy behavior is it possible for my body to fit into the stereotypes of what health looks like and that I don't have to do that.

I feel more at home in my skin even when I look back at some of my youth inspired tom foolery. Drug use, sex work, stupid things, insane dyke dramalicious break ups. A lot of people I knew and loved did not make it this far. Some of them are dead from AIDS, some drugs, others prison, murder etc. Even through the tint of sadness I can be proud that I've made it this far. There have been many times in my life where I really did not believe I would live to see thirty much less pass it.

Now that I've had that long look over my shoulder what's ahead?

The fucking fantastic thing is I don't know.

Recently I've gotten two fantastic really exciting sex writing opportunities. One I just finished up yesterday and the other should be coming down the pipe in a couple of weeks.

I have decided to get cracking on making some art of myself and whatnot.

I might get naked on the internet.

I might go balls out insane.

I just don't know and it's delicious.

It's wonderful to be looking forward and seeing a life that I have no idea where it's leading.

I think that's about all. I need to get started on super fucking awesome project number2.

Also I have some linked pages to create. A proper about me page, a links page, uh any other suggestions?

And oh yes, my Virgin homie I have not forsaken you my darling. I am thinking over your letter and will answer probably Monday or Tuesday.

Also some new photos finally. Outfits, crafts, maybe my fuzzy shin and the new scar on my left knee.

I love you homies and haters.

Homo Out.


Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Fluff, crafting and glee.

Fluffy post while I am hard at work on something so awesome I can't even tell you but it will be MOTHER FUCKING EPIC WIN.

So I have been working that one resolution I made to be more crafty. Thus far I have made two slightly ugly hats, an unintended wiener cozy, a strangely super circular purse thing that I cannot figure out how to put the closure in because I overdid it with the tension in the stitches, and one mystery item that I realized last night looks like a cock tapestry.

I decided to keep my fuck ups because they might be fuck ups but I made them and I love them.

I also purchased two super cheap books on crocheting on ebay and just as of yesterday have been rebitten by the embroidery bug. I embroidered quite a bit as a wee tot and think I can do it again because I have ideas of geeky/pervy samplers. Who doesn't need a nerdy sampler?

It feels really nice to be making things.

However it is kind of a stressful thing for me to have to spend money to do these things. Coming from being fairly poor for a large majority of my life spending money on things that are just pleasurable is hard sometimes.

In other news, I am still not sewing regularly. I have ideas for recons but I just haven't gotten myself to do them.

I think it would help if I could draw which I can't unfortunately.


Yeah I am spent. Other projects in the winds my homies.

Homo Out.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Notes from Fatassia.

Oookay MCCN and a couple of other people have inquired about buying me a present. Um Etsy doesn't have an actual wishlist function though I suggested one because they are awesome. However, I do have an Amazon wishlist (with some third party stuff on it that I use primarly to keep my ideas in one plce) that everybody is free to peruse. Otherwise, please feel free to shop in my Amazon affiliate store, granted I don't make a lot of $$ from that but I hand picked all the items and add new ones as I think about it.

Do please keep in mind nobody is at all obligated to buy me a present. Really.

Also if you have a look around (IE users I am SO sorry) I have given my litterbox a face lift. I made that banner all by myself in photoshop and diddled the code myself as well. Yes I know it's not super fancy but I haven't hand coded anything in about five years and don't think I did too badly. IE users, dudes I'm sorry I know it's jacked up in IE with the sidebar all the way down there at the bottom but I don't know how to fix that. At any rate I do have a whole other template I'm working on but holy fuck it is hard.

Also soon I will have my amazon affiliate store on it's own little page. I'm also thinking of adding some adult oriented (but not super NSFW) affiliate stuff. I'm always hesitant about that because I don't want to seem greedy or douchy.

I do have some other plans. I have some neat tshirt ideas that I have had sitting around for awhile. And speaking of, do any of you my varied readers have tshirts purchased from a Spreadshirt shop? How do they fit? Do you have tees from Cafepress? Are those any better/worse?

Also I am considering crocheting and cross stitching a bunch of things over the summer and launching an Etsy shop in the fall. However self promotion isn't my strong suit so that may or may not happen.

Um what else? Okay now for actual content.

Now we all know I am into fetish and alt photography. I have been for a damn long time. I had a conversation with Ugly Shyla over at Deviantart about some of the lack of diversity in these fields. Not just when it comes to bodies but entirely.

I've been of the opinion for the last few years that a lot of "alt" models etc have turned to being quite mainstream add or subtract some crazy hair, piercings or tattoos.

Inspired by Ms Shyla and a few other people I've talked to over the last couple of years I think I might dip my toe into doing some alt art of my own. Not modeling exactly but just some photographic visual art. I have no idea what exactly I want to do but there you have it. I highly suggest going to read the Myspace blog post Ugly Shyla made about this issue.

Currently I do not have the wardrobe to do much of anything so it'll take me awhile. But it's in the wind.

I have this need to express visually artistic ideas I have no other means of expressing. I want to roll up my love of body politics, fashion, etc to make pretty art to look at. I have a want to put these things into the world. Mostly because I like sharing things that bring me joy.

I am very creatively greedy. I want to make millions of beautiful things and share them with everyone.

I mean everyone.

Even the people who'll hate it or think it's stupid.

And I am so out of steam. I'm feeling a bit out of sorts. Vaguely PMS-ish and stabby cranky.

I'm crafting my ass off dudes. And it is good.

Okay no really I'm done now.

Keep an eye out for more stuff to get added to my Amazon affiliate store, a proper about me page. And some other pages. And hopefully sometime in the near future a total new look.

Homo Out.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Fuck yo' white bra.

I refuse to wear white or beige bras.

Let me tell you why.

To understand you have to go back almost 20 years exactly when yours truly started sprouting some boobies.

At the time when I was around 12 I got to about a B cup and stopped and even though I thought lingerie was glamorous and awesome I hated wearing bras and often stuffed my more tshirt than bra training bras into pockets, I'd tuck them into the pockets in the car, in my Dad's coat pockets. Anything to berid of them.

I kind of hovered at a big B cup almost C cup until I was 13 and they started to grow.

You would think someone was shooting me up with some kind of boob growth elixer because in less than one year I went from that not quite C cup to a DDD.

Absorb that for a moment. At 13 I was 5'0, not sure how much I weighed but my band size was a 33-34.

I don't want to talk about the trauma in detail but I will say that I was often in a lot of pain and gained a lot of weight mistakenly thinking that my body would somehow catch up in proportion. But it did not.

What did happen is at 14 years old and 5'1" and a pants size of about a 10 or so. I was an FF cup. I started having some horrifying and terrifying health problems. Inch deep grooves in my shoulders, difficulty breathing if I was reclined so I was unable to sleep on my back or lean at more than about a 90 degree angle.

But the most frightening and what I remember most vividly is waking up short of breath and having chest pains. Chest pains at 14 years old at one o'clock in the morning. When I could get some breath I remember stumbling into my parents room sobbing (which naturally made it harder to breath) and off to the ER we went.

It was thought that I was having a heart attack or other cardiac emergency based on a heart murmur I had as a baby and possible heart defects that just hadn't been caught. Imagine this.

Now as it turns out after many pediatric cardiologist visits this was not what happened.

(Please if you are squeamish SKIP THIS do not complain that I didn't warn you.)


What did happen is that the connective tissue beneath my breasts on my sternum tore. And was tearing from the ever increasing weight of my breasts.

Now my parents did not have a lot of money so we had to make do with bras from Kmart because I was out growing them at a rate of one a month.

What I remember on those trips is the humiliating walk past the jrs department, and the misses department to the old lady department. I had to wear these white or beige monstrosities of bras that always garnered raised eyebrows from catty retail employees. Comment from girls in gym class.

There is more but it's pretty horrible and I don't want to talk about it.

Then, my Mom found a pediatric reconstruction plastic surgeon who saved my life.

My parents insurance had deemed a breast reduction at my tender age to be merely cosmetic and we thought I was going to have to move to England with a family I hardly knew so I could get it done. But, my amazing doctor wrote a fairly substantial paper on my case and documented my plentiful health issues, took it to a North American conference and got enough other plastic surgeons on board with the idea the surgery was necessary to in essence blackmail the insurance company into paying.

So I got a reduction.

Initially I wanted cute small boobies like my Mom has. But the plastic surgeon explained that my broad shouldered, broad hipped build would make that a bit disproportionate. So I got a big full perky C cup.

I showed my new boobs to all my friends, to my family. I talked to other young patients about the surgery and the scars. I showed and had potential breast reduction patients feel my scars.

And then when I was all healed up, I went to JCPenny with my Mom and bought the most beautiful and delicate lavender lace bra. I cried. I cried when the bra fitter (a little granny who said I had "a lovely bosom") put a black satin demi cut bra on me.

I wept when I got a paisley print bra with matching panties.

I remember being in Victoria's Secret armed with a 25$ gift certificate and some pocket change and staring at myself in the mirror, a purple bra on and vowing, vowing with all the passion a 16 year old girl can muster that I would never -ever- wear a white or beige bra ever again.

Now I am almost 32 years old. I'm a little fatter than I was then. Instead of a 36C I'm a 39-40 DD (my boobs did grow a bit in my late teens/early 20's) and to this very day, I will not wear a white or beige bra.

I might wear gigantic granny panties that cover me from the bottom of my butt cheeks up to the band of my bra, I might wear tighty whities, I might wear orthopedic inserts (which I do) and not be able to sleep unless I've got some topical analgesic on my knees but god damn it.



I mean that from the depths of my heart. I mean that for the poor 14 year old girl crying in Kmart because she had no choices. I mean that because I know how to dress my body now and don't have to wear clothes I hate. I mean that for ever ugly polyester piece of shit I had to wear.

I mean that for every time I have rocked a mile of cleavage held up by satin and lace or a torso molding there is no denying the boobies cleavage.

I mean it for the hot ass demi cut black bra I have on right now, with the little charm between the boobs.

This entry is brought to you by my casual bra shopping right now, my jiggling chocolate brown (actually the boobs are slightly lighter) cleavage that is a tad sweaty and smells quite nice, and brought to you by the letters DD.

No matter what kind of boobies you have, or that someone you love has, or that you just admire going down the street. Love them.

I love yours. Feel free to love mine. In a special tingle or just yay boobies are awesome kind of way.

And as is necessary, a picture of the boobs I love so much and suffered for.

Homo Out.


Thursday, February 19, 2009

When the peen starts looking good.

Before we get to the beef, MCCN I have no clue you are seriously the first person to ever ask. Uh...I'll get back to you on that.

So the Peen.

I had a conversation via email recently with an up til now hetero man who's found himself quite suddenly rather enamored of another peen having human and naturally he's kind of confused.

For background this fellow is in his mid thirties, biologically male and has to this point never found himself curious about or really anything other than ambivalent about peen other than his own.

Recently he met another man about his age who he found himself quite attracted to and this dude is fairly into him, he's not super freaked out but a little bit.

Here is what I think.

I do not believe for an instant that a persons sexuality is ever static. Things change, people change, needs and desires change and there is nothing wrong with that.

Does his interest in this other dude mean he's suddenly gay? Probably not. Does it mean he's bisexual now? Maybe. Or maybe he's a straight dude who is sometimes attracted to other dudes.

I'm not a huge believer in sticking to a label for simplicity's sake. Things like sexuality are often far too complicated for these things. I also don't believe that deviating from what's the norm for you indicates a massive tectonic shift either.

If we take the peen out of the issue and say that this guy usually dates 6' blonds with short hair, blue eyes and small boobies then shows up at the party with a 5' black haired black eyed big titty having lady does this turn the universe inside out?

Nope not really.

I think that some people are really just more attuned to attraction based on what gives them the special tingle in the brain than others. And sometimes what gives us that special tingle is not what we are expecting and can be scary.

I told him to just enjoy himself. If he finds himself with an unavoidable want to have some buttsex or whatever with this guy to go ahead. And also to be honest that he is maybe a little freaked, has never sucked a cock and isn't sure what to do or how to feel exactly.

I also told him that if he does in fact want to have some boy on boy sexy times he needs to be prepared. I hand picked him some awesome porn to look at, recommended some informational things to read. I always advocate knowledge before taking the big plunge.

I think all of us at some point has a thought or attraction that freaks us out. Maybe it's someone outside of your culture, outside of your slice of the universe, hell maybe it's somebody fat or thin or super hot or whatever. It's okay.

Yes let me tell you that again my darling, it is okay. You are not losing your mind, your personality or self. You are okay. And there is no rule anywhere that says you have to even act on these feelings. You are free to stay home and wank yourself into a coma if you want to.

Now I am not a huge fan of picking at and trying to analyze every emotion or fleeting attraction. I don't think that it does us as humans a whole lot of good when we try to police ourselves to the point we start freaking if something seems politically incorrect in our own brains.

If you are not demeaning someone who hasn't asked you to do so, if you aren't basing your attraction on some racial or sexual stereotype, if you are not being creepy or weird you are probably just fine.

In essence what I'm saying here my homos, homies, haters and noobs is if you feel yourself getting the special tingle for somebody in your brain parts, go with it.

You never know. You might fall in love, you might have some awesome sex, you might freak out and never want to do that again but you'll know at least that you gave your brain a chance to lead your heart and/or crotch. And that my friends is an awesome feeling in my current view of the universe.

So there you have my take on sudden peen appreciation by fellow peen having human being.

Now I don't feel so hot today my stomach is wibbly and I think I've forgotten to eat enough and my blood sugar is taking a proverbial nose dive.

Homo Out.


Wednesday, February 18, 2009

My Fatshions, they are serious bizness.

Okay as ever I have been slowly but surely overhauling my wardrobe.

In case you haven't been playing along at home I am uber-thrifty. This skill is mainly a result of wanting desperately to feel fabulous.

Also I am realizing that my sewing skills aren't yet quite up to the point where I can make all of the fancier things I want. I have awhile before that's gonna happen.

I decided (inspired HUGELY by Lesley and Tara) that I really want to reembrace my love of skirts and dresses and accessorize in ways that make them wearable through more of the year.

Damn I can't get pics of most of my recent Ebay purchases to load.

Anyway. I am know proud owner of a fabulous pre-pink Torrid black circle skirt with tulle that hangs from the bottom, a tunic style shift dress with black roses and mesh hanging strip things (it's kinda tacky and I just LOVE it), a charcoal gray crinkly circle skirt knee length, etc etc. You see where I'm going with this.

I still need tops which I am turning to Old Navy for. I thrifted a few ON tops from Fatshionista a few weeks ago and wow I am very impressed. I have one of these plain Vneck tees in an XXL. The fit is excellent and pretty much everything I've been looking for in a girly cut tshirt.

For a refresher I am 5'3" ish, a big titty having, broad shouldered, short torso having plump size 14. The shirts do not ride up in the front because of my boobs, they don't strain overmuch over my boobs, they hit me mid-hip ish which is just what I want. They are not overly boxy like the ones from Avenue.

I got a crew neck plain black tee from Avenue and the cut (like the couple of other tops I have from them) just do not work for me. Although I would recommend them if you have a bigger belly and big boobies. But not so much if you have less belly and bigger boobs.

One of my issues is that when shirts fit my boobs but not the rest of my torso it makes my torso look weird in a way I don't approve of.

So to sum up thus far, ON is WIN for shirts.

I am also highly interested in some of the maxi dresses at Old Navy layered with a cami because the tops do not look like they could contain my boobs. There is something I do love about a nice easy dress when it's hot out.

Moving on.

I am going to take a chance on some OTK socks. I will probably start with some "O Basics" from Sock Dreams. I have an ancient pair of O pastels that are unwearable. I measured them yonks ago and to actually wear them as OTK's you'd have to have one wee tiny skinny non-knobby knee. I remain skeptical.

I am also on the hunt for stompy non boot shoes to wear with my knee socks and skirts. Probably some stompy goth mary janes or loafer style.

I realized that my right food is quite a bit wider than my left foot which has made shoe buying weird. My Torrid brand flats fit my right foot fantastically but not so much the left. So the metallic ballet flats I covet so much may not be in the cards.

I'm not entirely certain about workable solutions that aren't expensive for this issue. Also I am determined to not be stuck in flat shoes. My large amount of walking daily has severely impacted my ability to get some height in my shoes and I miss it. I believe I will be investing in some cute ass wedges for summer time.

There have been some fatshion disappointments. I picked up a super super cute argyle pattern jumper and I had the look in mind but, again I underestimated my boobs.

I think my boobs are just too big for this particular look. I tried it with a belt but it ruined the whole concept so I will probably sell that top after I wash it to an awesome fatty with smaller boobage.

Actually anyone broader at shoulder with less boobage would look cute in it since those aren't supposed to be form fitting.

So yeah that look is probably not for me.

I will admit though that I think I am going to give in and buy a pair of skinny jeans. I have some too short for my comfort skirts that would be adorable over skinny jeans.

I am actually really looking forward to rocking some weirdness. Floofy skirts with plain shirts, some cephalopod accessories because cephalopods make me unreasonably happy. I have a shit ton of stuff bookmarked on the Etsy and I'm budgeting my ass off to make it happen.

At the end of the day I am just too fucking old to be uncomfortable and unhappy with things I chose my fucking self. I am too old to still be fighting with myself about these things.

In other awesome news, I am getting a new camera for a late Vday/eary Bday present because I kinda threw up on my camera. Yeah don't ask.

So there will be outfit posts and I've discovered a full length mirror at work AND a spot to put a tripod in my apartment so yes. I am all about showing some slightly absurd, gothy frippery on yours truly.

I also really want to make the point that you don't have to be "fashionable" to be or feel awesome. Also you can feel fabulous on a tight ass budget.

Okay my darling darling dears I am spent. I am going to eat some tuna fish dry because it's one of my favorite snacks and then I have shit to do.

Tomorrow, I'm talkin' about the peen. More specifically an entry dedicated to a reader who is in a bit of a peen induced confused state. Not sex advice per se but, sex and peen.

Homo Out.


Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Oh no...fat lovers.

Before I get into the meaty bit of this entry I got an anonymous comment that said:

You are not nice.

What are you new?

I will rarely if ever make a declamatory statement to the effect that I am nice. Other people might say I am, or sweet or whatever but yeah I'm not really.

Fact is I can be a mean mother fucker. Sometimes I am an asshole. I feel no responsibility for how someone may or may not react to how I feel about things. I am under no obligation to hold your hand or behave in the ways you deem okay. I will be polite to you. But I do not have to be nice.

When I say fuck off, no really I mean fuck off. I do not have to sugar coat, wrap in fluffy clouds and pink bunnies with glitter little noses a goddamn thing.

If you can't hang you know where the exit button is.

Moving along today's entry comes from a conversation on a message board that boiled down to people tossing around stupid rhetoric about the "difficulties" of having a fat lover or being the fat lover.

Being that the particular community is not my litter box I really didn't want to pee in it, so here I am in my own litter box and here we go.

The first position held by several people was that (and I am seriously skipping over the whole fat=unattractive to all mammals because yeah I've been over that) if your lover is fat than your sex life will automatically become difficult and tedious.

Now let's take having a fat lover out of it for a moment.

Let's say that the person who's naughty bits you are hungering for is in fact a pillar of health and fitness. Trim tight and all that and a six pack of protein shakes. Let's say due to this persons own lack of foresight, clumsiness or willful ignorance they have injured their back.

With me so far?

So your lover who maybe slipped and fell after you told them daily to be careful on those stairs, or maybe tried to move the couch or whatever has caused a change in their body. Or maybe your lover just had a clumsy day.

Assuming that your lover was able and you were both raring to go would you withhold sex from your lover because there's been a change? Would you consider positions that maybe don't involve acrobatics?

Let's say that your lover can't really do standing in the shower sex anymore because it makes their back hurt. Would that suddenly preclude you two having a sexual relationship? Or be a terrible undue burden?

Hold that thought for a moment.

If you are with someone we'll assume that you do in fact want to make some sexy time with them, granted whatever soemthing is going on with your lovers body can change your sex life but I do think it's selfish and frankly stupid to deem those as insurmountable difficulties.

The fact is that no matter what kind of body your lover has, there are going to be things that you either can't do or that are going to take some creativity to do.

For instance, maybe your lover has very bad knees and can't kneel for long periods of time so you get some pillows or change positions.

Or maybe you're the one with a bad back and aren't comfortable doing some positions.

My big point here is that whatever shape your lovers body or their level of ability doesn't have to be an imposition or a wall between you and having some awesome sex.

Now broadly speaking given there are millions of challenges one can face when trying to put two humans together a few general tips.

Pillows. They don't have to be fancy, they can come from the Dollar store or Big lots or where ever but have pillows that you don't mind getting lube or whatever on. If you have a bad back and need support there you go, if you have bad knees and you're on the bottom and need some support, BAM there is your pillow.

Lube. LUBE LUBE LUBE. Even if you are a lady parts having individual who's got wetness to spare keep some on hand.

A few okay to use in your crotchal region towels. Cause sometimes when the lovin' is that good you really just don't want to get out of bed.

Also handy, baby wipes. If a towel doesn't cut it a box of generic baby wipes (they won't irritate your sensitive bits) can do wonders for a quick prenap clean up.

If you need a get over your trepidation about doing (insert sexy thing here) here I am.



Feel free to picture me hollering that either drill sergeant style or cheerleader with pompons style.

Now if you really deep down believe that a change in the ability of your partner, or how their body looks means that your sex life is ruined, I have to admit you're probably not a great lover because you do have to pay attention to your partner and their feelings to do that. If something changes, roll with it.

Yes, if your lover is fat or you're fat there may be some things you have to work around. If you or your lover is very thin there are things you might have to work around. Being human, having a human body sometimes mean things change or are different and you just need to work it out.

Now go forth, get naked and have a good time.

Homo Out.


Monday, February 16, 2009

Sluts, fatties and buckle up.

I want to start by quoting Tara's post over at Fatshionista.

In the queer fat femme context from which I operate, blatant displays of the body can be sources of power and strength.

I quote her to begin with because I am coming from a very close angle here.

I want to start out by saying that if you consider yourself a feminist and you engage in, encourage or support slut shaming, fuck you.

If you are supposedly a feminist but you don't have enough respect for a fellow women to give her an opportunity to live her life, use or not use her sexuality as she sees fit fuck you and your friends.

If you are supposedly pro woman than give women the respect to realize that many of us whom you'd gleefully decry as sluts and point to as hurting the cause, have brains and know how to use them. You are the enemy. People like you who cannot understand that womanhood and sexuality are not monolithic experiences and one means of doing things does not fit all, you are the enemy.

To put a finer point on it, you are my enemy.

The problem is not how someone chooses to present themselves. The problem is when people, women men whomever decide how other people should present themselves.

There is an ocean between knowing what you yourself might do in any given situation and denigrating someone else for not doing just that same thing.

Moving along.

I want to talk more about being fat and embracing your body etc.

First of all I will say again that being a fat woman who is happy and comfortable in her skin (whatever flavor or shade of woman you are) is in and of itself a subversive act. In a society that will tell you the eleventy billion ways that your body is wrong and how to change the shape of it, or take the eye away from it, rejecting those ideals is a subversive thing.

To take things another step, being yes blatantly, wonderfully and provocatively dressed at any time as a fat person is a subversive act. In the act of putting something on that hugs your fat belly, that shows the shape of your fat ass, or your fat back, to show your fat arms is an act of eyes open middle finger flying defiance.

The refusal to quietly put on your sack cloth and walk around with your shoulders up around your ears and your back bent, the refusal to be invisible and therefore non confrontational is a difficult thing to do.

Now if you choose to make this statement via classically tailored clothes and pearls that's just fine. If you choose to make this statement in a tight brightly colored dress (I'm looking at you), that is great.

The fact is ladies gents and all in between that there is no absolute correct way of expressing yourself be it sexually, visually what have you.

What is wrong, is the idea that us policing each other based on what our personal desires and tastes are.

Again it comes down to what I feel is a lack of respect.

If you cannot respect another person enough to either give them the benefit of the doubt or at least ask before proclaiming them wrong what it is they are up to, fuck you. No really fuck you.

To be more frank, I am too old to put up with this sort of fuckery in my small slice of universe. I do not put up with it.

Speaking to my own experience and how I present myself, how I look day to day has changed some what.

Generally speaking these days I am very plain aging office goth. Especially in the winter because I'm a wimp and do not want to be colder than need be. As the weather warms up, you will see me in my natural habitat as I am today, stompy boots, floofy skirts (mid calf prepink Torrid pixie hemmed skirt of awesome), hoody. I also as we know love make up. And today I am rocking the fuck out of some very red shiny lips.

Sometimes do I wear tight clothes? Shit yes I do.

Does this change who I am or how I feel about who I am? Not so much.

I long ago gave up the idea that wearing looser clothing could fool anyone (especially myself) into thinking that I am not a Fat. Fabulous. Femme.

Because yanno know what? I am.

As a queer person I spent some time struggling with and trying my damnedest not to be Femme because as the women around me would tell it, my femmeness was not born of my own soul but a construct of the Patriarchy to which I was clearly and sadly beholden.

Now that I'm older I realize that they were clearly misguided. Perhaps their own forays into Femme were born of that but mine clearly were not.

Granted I have no scientific back up here but, if something has been intrinsically and deeply true of a person since toddler hood, chances are it is not an outside construct.

Even when as a wee tot I was determined to grow up and be Super Man my plan included time for tiaras, ass kicking AND high heels. However I was devastated to find out I would not in fact grow up to be Super Man because he was a boy and I was not. I got over that part because oh HAY I discovered I had a vagina which is a whole other entry.

I did a lot of dress up and pretending as a kid, I was an only child at the time and filled many hours armpit deep in boxes of tatters from the thrift store. I can say with absolute certainty that my love of my own femmeness, that my expression of that femmeness has matured but at the heart of it is still a 4 year old girl in nothing but plastic crystal crusted fake high heels, tiara and boa.

And you know what?

That is wonderful. It is a wonderful fantastic thing for me.

Your presentation, your femmeness, your butchness, your androgyne lipstick wearing-ness, your transness, your genderqueerness, your masculine femininity, your feminine masculinity, your hard ass shit kicking masculinity is also a wonderful and beautiful thing.

We can be unified in a message if we are different in our delivery of that message. And I will not tell you to fuck off. As with many things in life, show me some respect and I will show you respect in return.

We do not have to be enemies. I would venture to say that judgement, and disrespect among the rank and file are a far bigger threat to feminists and the like than any outside force.

Okay I'm done.

I think tomorrow I am going to talk about an interesting conversation I had with someone about having a fat lover.

Also something SUPER FUCKING AWESOME coming up, I will announce it soon but I am excited like WHOA.

I hope you all my darlings, homies and haters had a good Vday however you celebrate it. If you celebrated solo I do hope you wanked until you could wank no more, had a tasty meal and good sleep. If you had partner(s) to play with, giggity giggity baby.

Blogging was uber light last week due to rampant insomnia, I can't write properly when I'm that tired.

I'm off to a good start this week 7 straight hours of sleep yo!

Also Uniballer as a Vday pressie is looking for me a new camera since I broke mine with some drunken revelry.

Also coming soon, MOAR SEX.

I got an awesome question from a man who if he lived withint ass grabbing distance would SO be my gay boyfriend. But since he lives on another continent I will have to be satisfied with giving him some sexy times instructions.

Now I am going to drink my fantastic Kona coffee (fresh French Press FTW), eat some fantastic dark chocolate.

I emailed a few people who I don't think got them because my home internets connection has been on the fritz. more mail later.

Homo Out.


Wednesday, February 11, 2009

25 Things.

I did the 25random things meme on facebook but cheated because I skipped a bunch of them so I'm going to do it today. With explanations.

1.) We all know I curse a lot. I actually remember the first time I cursed with intent and purpose. Picture this. Your hostess at 8 years old, running amok with painted fingernails, on a cobalt blue boys bike with a banana seat and at the time very fond of trying desperately to make mud (I thought it was clay) pots. There was an older (probably 10-11) boy who lived in my apartment complex and who was constantly bothering me. One day he had decided he wanted to try and kiss me and I was not putting up with that fuckery. We were outside my parents bedroom, their bedroom window was open and I remember he pinched me and I turned around, looked him dead in the eye and said:

"If you touch me again I will knock your dick in the dirt."

So you see I was pretty much born this way.

2.) I have a long and abiding love of ugly things. Weird tacky things that nobody else loves. It all started with a rooster pillow. A pillow painted, bedazzled and feathered to look like a rooster. There was also noteably this god awful bedroom set I got at Value Village as a kid. Rainbow sherbert colors. A huge (like almost 10 foot) bright red crushed velvet davenport that I almost bought for four dollars at a thrift store (they'd had it for something like three years) but I couldn't find someone with a truck to come get it for me. I love ugly weird things. Mostly because I figure nobody else will love whatever ugly thing so into my heart it goes.

3.) When I was in the sixth grade a friend and I spent all day following Joey from New Kids on the Block around the Puyallup fair but couldn't talk to him because we were too busy squeeing. He spotted us trying to hide behind a pole and smiled. We lost our shit and ran away squealing and giggling.

4.) When I was little the movie The Red Balloon made me cry my eyes out when I saw it. I mean completely lose my shit in hysterics crying. I watched it again when I was about 16 and had the same reaction. The only other movie to ever do that to me was Dancer in the Dark. I don't cry very often at all and was crying so hard my gay boyfriend got me stoned because he thought I was going to fall out. I don't even smoke the weed. I have only ever seen it that once and I am never watching it again.

5.) I really love plants, I mean LOVE them but they hate me. I have probably killed more plants than other people have ever grown. Even with written instructions followed to the letter. My Mother on the other hand can resurrect something that looks like it's been dead for five years.

6.) I am often fascinated by things I just do not understand at all. Theoretical maths, physics, shit like that. I really honestly do not understand any of it but If ind it terribly interesting. I used to go to free lectures at the UW just to listen and never understood anything after hello.

7.) The first actually holy place I ever feel like I've been was in Japan at Todaiji Temple in Nara. I remember (and I really hope this wasn't too weird) going inside and sitting in an out of the way spot where people weren't walking, on the floor and feeling so calm being near that huge Buddha. I was in high school at the time and most everyone else was running around and I just sat for awhile feeling like I was Buddha's special little homie. No one looked at me too funny although there was one little Gramma (she was with what I took to be her grandkids) who smiled at me and it was nice.

8.) My other favorite thing about Japan was having things on my eye level. It was AWESOME. I'm not all that tall and it was so cool to be able to reach stuff in the stores and not have to break my neck looking at things or for things. Also, the warmth and genuine happy people had when I was trying my horrible Japanese or I got the OM NOM NOM GIMME THEM FOODS happy look. That was pretty awesome. All around I enjoyed Japan a lot. And one more thing linguistically I love Japanese because it's phonetic and from what I remember if you at least get most of the words people will get what you're trying to say.

9.) I think photos of babies crowning are probably among the most awesome things in the fucking universe. Pussy fucking rules.

10.) I have odd eating habits. Sometimes (like the past few days)I just don't really want to eat an actual meal. Some days I nom cheerios on and off all day like an overgrown toddler other days I'm perfectly content with plain (nothing on it) tuna, some crackers and tea. Because of this habit sometimes I have issues keeping my blood sugar from crashing.

11.) Sometimes instead of just calling someone a douche I will tell them that they are a substance known to irritate the fuck out of my vagina. It's amusing to watch people figure out they got called a douche.

12.) Despite frequent cries from people that it's "just the internet" I can't help but lose some respect to people who behave assy because it's "just the internet".

13.) I will watch a documentary on just about anything. Even if it's a subject I'm not super interested in or that I already know some about. I love documentaries.

14.) The first music I ever remember really affecting me was The Doors. Theirs was the first that I listened closely to the lyrics and understood that they meant something. I still love their music.

15.) When I am over tired I really shouldn't be taken in public because my brain mouth filter tends to turn itself off at inopportune moments. But this can result in making strangers laugh which is a nice thing.

16.) I really don't mind making a jackass of myself. I have fallen down in public, had boobs fall out of outfits, walked off of the bus with my skirt in my panties, fallen off of a barstool when I wasn't even drunk, fallen down a flight of stairs in front of a crowded club when I was trying to make an uber sexy entrance. So yeah if I fall, fart, have a booger etc I'm probably not going to freak.

17.) Despite attempts I have never made much money with this whole blogging thing. Before google yanked adsense I think I made 4$ in four years. Amazon I think I've made 6. It's way more effort than it's worth.

18.) Also despite my uber femme appearance a good 80% of the time I still will punch you in the fucking neck. I am not so ladylike that I won't make a point with violence. I don't very often anymore, but when it happens I will in fact fuck you up. That said, I don't really want to fight anyone but it is reassuring to know that I will if need be.

19.) I have some weird food neurosis. For instance I won't eat certain things not because of taste but because of mouth feel. For instance nuts. Aside from peanuts I won't eat most nuts because I don't like how it feels to chew them. Similarly I won't eat puffy Cheetos, radishes, certain kinds of hot cereal. Also if things I chew have a certain tone that I can feel in my ear I won't eat them either.

20.) I have a terrible time buying things on Ebay when the seller hasn't run their sales patter through spell check. It pains me.

21.) If I saw these PETA people that Renee was talking about yesterday on the street, someone would get hit. It wouldn't be a hate response but a fear response. Matter of fact, it bothers me enough that I haven't been able to read the media coverage without images turned off. Mother Fuckers.

22.) I tend to be more nervous walking around a residential neighborhood late at night than walking around an urban environment late at night.

23.) Despite not wanting to squirt a child from my own loins I think babies and kids are awesome. One of my favorite things in the world is slightly sour milky baby breath, I also love sweaty little heat machines nestled happily on my boobs. I don't even mind being snotted on. When it comes to babies and children, I am prepared. I have been around them my whole life and yes, they make me the happy even when they are squalling and angry.

24.) My biggest childhood fear was sleep paralysis. I was also absolutely terrified of slugs. Paradoxically I was never afraid of ghosts and things, and I spent a few years as child trying to set shit on fire with my mind after I read "Firestarter" at age 8.

25.) Last one. Secretly I still fantasize almost daily that I will at some point wake up and find myself as new money idle rich and spend the rest of my life traveling, writing, buying art, having lavish, decadent parties with friends whom I fly in for the events. In this same fantasy I divide out my remainin days doing awesome philanthropic things and reveling in the loot.

There you have it. 25things with substance.

Homo out.

Ps..this took me for motherfucking EVER.

Monday, February 09, 2009

Under consideration.

The other day someone sent me an anonymous note letting me know how disappointed he/she was to find my blog linked at AAG (by the way thank you for adding me I'm honored), and Best Sex Bloggers (holy wow awesome that I am there too) and a few other sex oriented places. This persons whole reasoning for the disappointed is that I a.) don't talk about exclusively sex and b.) am not "anyone" in the adult/sex industry.

This person was also disappointed to find out that I am fat and into FA.

This isn't the first time I've heard these things. Way way back in the Diary-x days when I very first started publicly online journaling and talking about sex and my body and whatever else, I was featured on a now defunct sex oriented thing and got mail strikingly similar to this.

Okay folks here it is, I am not exclusively a sex blogger.

I am not exclusively a FA blogger.

I am a 31 (almost 32) year old woman who likes to write a lot and is prone to navel gazing, pontificating, ranting, and generally making some kind of noise here in the blue nowhere. Being that this is my litterbox I can talk about whatever the fuck I want to. You do not have to read it.

So in short if you anonymous whomever you are really takes issue with where links to me appear take it up with the site owners and fuck right off.

In other news.

My beautiful and smart lady friend Sarah Katherine Lewis has a sex advice live blogtv thing on Thursdays now. Go to her blog and check out the info. She is smart, has a lovely laugh and gives damn good advice I highly recommend buying her books and watching her show.

Speaking of beauties I have discovered Mollena the Perverted Negress. And she is delicious. Delicious smart and kinky. All things that make me go a little wibbly in the knees.

While I'm talking about women I was reading Your Daily Lesbian Moment and Arlan's post got me thinking.

It occurs to me again that I don't have a type. As I've probably said before whatever size or shape someone's ass is, if I like them chances are I think they are hot.

If we're talking pure eyes to brain lust there are many things about my fellow humans that get me tingly. Sometimes it's a certain glint in the eye, a crooked smile, chubby round cleavage, a pretty ankle, a protuberant jiggy ass, big meaty thighs, a scarred knee, a smooth expanse of skin at the nape of the neck that begs for my teeth prints.

Sometimes it's a voice. I have a terrifying brain to crotch connection with voices. Certain timbres of voice, tones of speech will in fact turn me into a glassy eyed moron with a tingling crotch.

I am known to admire and want to stroke fat flesh, skinny flesh, muscly flesh etc.

When I was dating sometimes this no type thing had it's disadvantages mainly in the form of a seriously wandering eye and tendency to be constantly twitterpated.

That's not to say I don't still have a wandering eye because I do. I will admit shamelessly that I am an ogler, I do frequently give people the eye. I try hard not to be pervy about it but, sometimes it happens.

I can also be a little grabby sometimes. I like to hand out hugs, smooches and ass squeezes to people I like. Friends, strangers etc. I am polite enough to ask first though and usually won't ask people I get the don't touch me vibe from.

This reminds me of a story let me tell you it.

I was out clubbing with some of my party homos at a club where one of them knew the owner so I was having my first V.I.P club experience. Free champagne etc. I think I was recently legal at the time.

We missed the drag show but were hanging around back stage and this absolutely GORGEOUS 6'11", three mile long legs of glorious hotness drag queen swooped down on me and damn near face planted between my boobs.

I squealed (this was a first for me) she squealed, the homos squealed and at some point there were about five pairs of hands on my boobs and the boys and the drag queen were all extolling the virtues of my boobies.

Being that it was a first I was startled but absolutely delighted.

My point in telling you this story is that delight in another humans physical body isn't shameful. Nor does it inherently mean you wanna get them naked and bent over your couch.

The fact is, as I said in another entry that sometimes, enjoying the skin someone else is sporting can just be joyful.

Now the big challenge I think is learning that you in your skin are beautiful to someone too. An even bigger challenge is seeing the beauty you see in other people in yourself. Yes you have stretchmarks, zits, pockmarks, jiggly bits, cellulite, knocked knees, pigeon toes and saggy balls and you my darling are a beauty.

I believe that's about all from me today. I have fiction to edit and Cheerio snack mix (which is freaking delicious) to nibble on.

Homo out.

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

What I'm not talking about.

I was reading Womanist Musings this morning and was reminded that it is Black History Month.

The following is all I'm saying about it.

There was a time when I was always excited about Black History month. I would help sometimes decorate the library or whatever classroom but then I think around high school age it wore off.

I realized then that Black history month was not important to my friends. That it was not important to much of my family and finally it just pisses me off.

My issue is that I hate that our (as in all of us Americans) this is our shared history. That there is so much more to know than there was a guy named Martin Luther King Jr, some folks protested, some former slaves wrote some books.

It pisses me off that for the rest of the year when people have plenty of time (and these days if you have the internets you have the access) to learn this history that they just don't bother. And don't even get me started on school curriculum.

I refuse to believe that a month of skimming over the highlights (or lowlights depending on your view) does a fucking thing.

Now, if you want to learn some Black history use the google machine.

So don't wish me a happy Black History month I will not give you a cookie.

Being that this is not just Black history, but American history a month will not suffice. Some collages and decorations are not going to fucking cut it.

Let me tell you a wee story here, here is some Black History.

When I was around 13 years old I heard the name Emmett Till. I'm not sure how I heard his name or where but I remember going to the library to read about him.

I read everything I could get my hands on about this poor murdered boy.

At 13 no one could explain it to me, all I could think about was that in recent history a boy hardly older than myself was murdered and no one did anything about it.

I started to read about more things like this. Public beatings, lynchings, harassment, etc. I had nightmares.

I was afraid to be a Black child in America because I saw the proof that if something happened to me, chances were nobody would do anything about it.

I knew no comfort.

I had family members who were old enough to have lived through Jim Crow. Family members who were still afraid to speak up for themselves in public. Family members who in these Grand Old United States who could not just live their lives because of their skin color.

As I got older, I started to understand that despite changes in law, and this nod to my history, too many people were not doing anything.

While I have lived to see a Black man become president, I also live with people telling me it's no big deal since he's mixed race anyway. I live with people who could give two shits about what it is actually like to be a person of color in this country. Who can't understand how it can mean so much to me to see a face that in some ways reflects my own running this country.

People who have no idea and don't want to know what it's like to be a child and know that there are people who would rather see you dead than give a shit about you based solely on the color of your skin.

Before you wish me a Happy Black History month, ask yourself what do you know about Black History? If it were June instead of February would you bother to know these things?

I'm getting frothy but you get my point.

To sum up, I don't want Black History month. I want Black history right along wide the dead white guy history. I want to open an American History book and find out about Black settlers in the old west. I want to flip to a page about industrialized agriculture and see Granville Woods' name.

I want English, American lit classes etc to cover slave narratives alongside Hemmingway and Willa Cather.

This country has never and will never do Separate but Equal well in any way. I don't want separate history because it's not separate history.

If you are an American, Black history is your history, Asian history is your history. It is OUR history and should be treated thus.

So don't wish me a Happy Black History Month.

Instead, in June pick up a book and learn our history.

Homo Out.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Things that annoy me.

Okay I'm in a mood today so I'm going to bitch about a few things that are bugging me right now.

Lip Service. I know I should just call it a day with these people but really? Who sells items that they don't even have measurements for? Now I asked in the lj Lippy addicts community and someone (after I emailed the company directly with no answer) from the company said they might be able to measure the pattern.

Wait wut?

You were charging (they are on clearance)50$ for a skirt, and I as a consumer should just take a chance? Now I don't expect non-professional clothing makers/sellers to be able to yanno just make with the garment measurements but from a company like Lip Service I would expect something. If not at least a too bad so sad fatty.

Now Lip Service asked awhile back what people wanted. Lots of fatties spoke up about wanting more plus sizes. I've looked at most of the upcoming line drawings etc and yeah, no go.

So some free advice to retailers who want to sell some plus size clothing k?

1.) List measurements. Use a size chart, use a reference size chart (in the case of Lip Service they could have pointed to the Torrid size chart, although they were not made to those specs. One of the Lippy resellers measured two for me and they were not on that size chart. Don't think that fat is fat is fat. This is especially important if your company is known for having wonky sizing issues

2.) Don't tease. If you are going to do a plus size line or feature do it. Don't show a model with a big ass and that's it.

3.) Maybe use the google machine to have a look around at other plus size retailers. Especially when it comes to goth wear there are SO many options aside from the ubiquitous long loose dress. Make it available and decent and the fatties will buy.

4.) Be aware that a size 10 is probably not going to fit the plus size consumer unless we are talking a seriously vanity sized 10 or something awesomely stretchy. Further, know your venue. Don't try to pass off something under say a size 12 to the plus size crowd, you are just going to piss them off.

5.) I've said this before but if you are a DIYer do NOT bitch about not knowing fatties or how to make clothes for fatties. Either don't try to sell me your shit or, do the following. Use craigslist or whatever social networking and put out an ad that says the following:
Rad DIY designer needs some hot plus sized fit models. No $$ but there will be swag or TFP pics call- 1-900-Ilikehotfatties.

Other things to know.

Fat bodies are not all one shape. Which can yes make clothing said fat bodies a bit of a challenge but, all the more fun.

Fat bodies do not always just=more fabric or coverage.

Now speaking more specifically to my own tastes.

Yes I am probably glad you have something gothariffic in plus sizes. However I am not willing to shell out double what your smaller sizes go for. Not gunna happen.

Also, if you're making something for those of us with the big tatas, you might want to rethink the sparkly, ruffly fucking shit across the boobs.

Also not all of us gawths are perky goths. Thus your goth shop offering plus sized offerings in shades of twinkly pink and glitter does not necessarily fill the need.

I can get a baby blue babydoll tshirt at fucking target.

If you are big pimping your brand new sparkly plus size section, do not send me ads etc when you have all of two offerings in stock. Fuck off. No really fuck off you're doing it wrong.

If three quarters of what you are carrying for the fatties are things that I could get for far cheaper at the aforementioned target or at the gap don't fucking bother it's insulting.

Now you, lingerie makers. Oh yes you are on my shitlist today too.

There are good reasons not to construct a bra for someone who's a B cup the same way you would for someone who's a DD cup.

Tits are heavy and will in fact destroy materials that were not meant to support them.

Also, fat girl does not necessarily mean she wants giant panties. We all know I am no fan of wearing panties (I do like seeing them on other people so feel free to show me your panties to improve my mood), I do on occasion like a pair of cute panties and have yet to find a pair that's either not all the way up under my ribs, shoddily made (Torrid I'm looking at you bitches), or cut funny in the ass so they ride way up and irritate my taint. Do. Not. Want. As above, get some fucking fit models. Just because it stretches doesn't mean it's comfortable or pleasing.

Remember too, fat does not automatically=big boobs. We all know I myself am a big titty having fat girl, but I MUST rep for my homies with smaller boobs. How about making shirts that are friendly for both? Or maybe use some fit models with varying sized boobies to see how one shirt may look faaaaaaaaaaabulous on your C cup sized model, but horrible on your B cup model and absurd on the lady with the DD's.

Okay I'm done.

Now my homies, feel free to use this entry to call out DIYers, companies etc who are or are not doing it right.

If my camera is not as broken as I think, look forward to some awesome thrifted outfits. My Spring/Summer wardrobe is all about cute floofy skirts. And this is awesome.

Homo Out.


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