Monday, July 31, 2006

miss me my dear

'take me through
the pot-luck romance
drug me up on cardboard wine
come undress me
look right through me
call me someone else's name...
will you miss me my dear
and my wild wild hair'
-bitch and animal 'miss me my dear'


nothing much i can add to this. except to say 'please'.





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Sunday, July 30, 2006

Utter Filth Really

As promised, here's the rundown of my Saturday night's adventures playing with the Lions. So, if you don't mind getting a bit of dirt on your eyeballs keep right on reading:



Ah, where to begin? With the clothes methinks, set the mood a little. Now, had I been garbed in my recent froufrou then skirts most certainly would have been bleeding, or at the very least bloody. As it happened, my spanky new German camos are looking, and I daresay smelling, much more like camos should...

Of course, I was tempted to wantonly cincher and flounce, but then had a total faggot fashion moment after realising that not only was I going to be playing bitch on the back to My Favourite Butch, on my favourite bike, for the ride there, but I should factor in the probability of being beaten to a pulp with a certain 'belt buckle'. Thus something more practical may be in order: the aforementioned combat pants, steel-capped boots, hobble belt (complete with amyl holder, and amyl) , a rather breast-y leather shirt, khaki army jumper and my furry vest. And my collar of course (but for the record- I'm not collared TO anyone). Oh, and red lipstick.

MFB collected me, and with gloves and helmet in place we set off on the Big Black Beast. *SWOON*. Zoo likes bikes a lot. And when hurtling along the highway on the back of one, all the while clinging on to extremely yummy leather butch Daddy-type, she gets a little bit excited. Arrived with hard nipples and the beginnings of a wet patch. Thankyou muchly MFB ;)

We're greeted at the door by a lovely young (and well-trained) butler. The usual assortment of reprobates, plus one or two mystery guests mingled about the various rooms filling out their dance cards, or stood by the fire making merry. Wandered around catching up with folk I hadn't seen for ages, before being invited to watch what turned out to be one of the most intense and erotic cuttings I have ever witnessed. Blissed-out cutter, blissed-out cuttee, red rivers streaming across thighs and faces and other body parts, and bloodslut Zoo trying not to moan toooooo loudly as she squirmed across the floor. *DOUBLE SWOON*.

Composed myself somehow and went off to find some ouchy naughty shenanigans ofmy own. I had half-arranged for ScarletTheHarlot to stick some needles in me, and SharntSayNo decided to assist her in her reign of pointy terror. Once we found a spare bed to play on, S1 promptly whacked two 18g needles through my wrists and tied them together with dental floss. S2 started threading more 18s through my tits, while S1 proceeded to throw various gauges in my squishy stomach parts. Then H prowled in brandishing the chokechain he had seen mentioned on a previous post, and an S threw it around my neck, then somehow my piercings got all tied up and together with floss and... oooooh, pierced by two lustly lovelies while chain pulled tight and... needles out, blood on the sheet, the towel, sneaking around the back of my neck and under my arm... Words fail me. Really they do. However, MFB filmed a whole heap of my orgasmic writhings and delirious mumblings so if you beg nicely you might just get to witness it for yourself (and the photo above gives you the general idea). *TRIPLE SWOON*.

After cleaning up a little and gathering my senses as much as possible, I ventured out to find H waiting for me with The Belt Buckle. Was punched, hard. Kicked, hard. Wrestled to ground and squished hard. Repeat. Then with TBB dusting Hunter's knuckles, had metal pushed and pounded into flesh. Finally have to call it off as almost can't breathe, room spinning and bruises rising and muscles pulling and OhMyGoddessWhatWasThat?. Have the distinct impression that blades may have been involved somehow, but was zoned out completelyby this point.*SWOON TO INFINITY*.

At some point shortly thereafter I was bailed up and violated quite nicely by ScarletTheHarlot with the black rubber baton I brought back from Berlin years ago. Rest of night subdued in comparison! Watched bits and pieces of other people's play, drank more, lay around doing bulbs for hours, fooled around a bit. Then got all sleepy, crashed out on the couch all wrapped up in breasts and bear and blankie, woke up to sunlight and decided to wander on down to the pub for morning-after beers and nonsense. Stayed until mid-arvo, then was fading and it all got a tad weird with a stupid boy(long story) so H and I got a cab back to the party palace. Got some takeaway and pottered about with H and the delightful T, then watched Buck porn (yes Boy, you know EXACTLY what that did to my head!) and Bonking Berlin Bastards. The latter, for those who have not experienced its delights, is essentially a VERY yummy piece of pornography, featuring a breathtaking assortment of absolutely filthy punk-skin-boys fucking on rooftops, jerking off in the park and in a phonebooth and in a gondola, fisting, pissing on themselves and each other, sucking endless amounts of cock etc etc etc- all set in the decay of old Berlin... it is PERFECT. It made me want so many things all at once. (To think I had all but forgotten watersports! Mind you, had almost forgotten blades until a week or two back.) Mmmm... ended up a very happy little creature...

Bruises now coming up in colourful lumps all over my body. Walking is quite entertainingly painful, as is typing, sitting, stretching, standing up, putting my backpack on and almost every other activity. All in all, a mighty fine 24 hours. (Didn't do much beforehand, just saw Polymorph crew and caught up with various exes in various places, did a spot of clothes shopping and gathered some groceries... nice cruisy arvo in the sunshine and the whole of the ghetto seemed to be in a good mood. Needless to say, didn't make it to Sexpo this arvo. So, cock still unharnassed and wrists still in need of restraint).

Goodnight all. Off to dream filthy dreams and poke my sore points.

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Saturday, July 29, 2006

In the Ghetto, and Beyond- Zoo's Gig Guide

Just spent a lovely evening out and about with H, T, Freeq and her man, then some beautiful leather boys. Pub, food, coffee, pub, then a lift home. Walk into loungeroom to find cake, chartreusehot chocolate, Coopers, my yummy new housemate, NattieTheFlattie and other freaky folk. And now it is 2am again. Weekend is here! Yay! If you want me, you can find me...

Saturday: Crawling about The Ghetto (aka Newtown). Coffee with a Kate, and more coffee with a Schwee, maybe run into Polymorph to talk sharp pointy things and shows with Rob, check out the DIY market near the Hub, generally frolic about and try not to spend too much money. Come home, shower, sleep (?), pack toy bag (stick, scalpels, amyl, high pain threshold) and find suitably debauched outfit. Then off to be eaten by Lions. Nothing concrete planned, but rumour has it there may be my blood on a certain 'belt buckle' by the end of the evening (but however will it get there?). And I may possibly be full of holes, rather bruised up and... will keep you posted. Suspect there may some surprises in store for all of us *tremble*.
Sunday: Recover somehow. Eat, then head to Sexpo late in the arvo for some end of the weekend specials. Need some restraints, and a new harness, and maybe another cock or two, and then just see whatever else tickles my fancies. And what I can afford- its the week before pay. (Which reminds me... getting extra $ next fortnight so can FINALLY afford boxing lessons. Sure, a bookshelf is probably more important somehow, and maybe new glasses so I can see you all properly, and a whole host of other sensible spending choices are on offer but, oooooooooooooooooooooooooooh, every time I walk past that seedy old gym at the back of the Uni and see the girls sparring I almost faint with anticipation. I want my sweatstains on that mat! And just found out they do wrestling down there too... from someone who has rarely ever stepped foot inside a gym this may sound a little over-enthusiastic but this is so much more inspiring than step classes and stationary bikes.)

Up and coming:
* Want to see The Hanging of Jean Lee next week at the Studio. Can probably only do Friday or Saturday night though. Anyone want to join me? Tix $30/25




A daring new music-theatre work that traces the grim life of the last woman to be hanged in Australia in 1951 and the trajectory of her thoughts as she approaches execution.

Based on Jordie Albiston’s verse biography of the same name and featuring a stellar cast of Australian talent, this is a retro-indie post-punk musical, mashing up forms as diverse as the biographic documentary, rock concerts, performance text and pop videos.

Andrée Greenwell’s score evokes a dark, seedy underground, exposing raw emotions to create a gritty edge, before the musical slips into an underworld of tragedy, horror and fantasy

* Ran into SLPA's El Presidente and his boy at the Newtown Hotel earlier (sweet boys), and said Prez was telling me that if I was in Melbourne come September I should head down to
Beyond@Dream on the 23rd. Details at www.beyondblack.com.au
Looks like its usually full of sweaty leather folk. Pretty male dominated- but that has never been a problem ;)

More adventures to follow...

Thursday, July 27, 2006

The Fox, some Lions, two Bears and a Phoenix

Do you want me?
Should I leave?
I know you're always telling me
That you love me
Just sometimes I wonder
If I should believe
Oh, I love you
God, I love you
I'd kill a dragon for you
I'll die
But I will rise
And I will return
The Phoenix from the flame
I have learned
I will rise
And you'll see me return
Being what I am
There is no other Troy
For me to burn

-Sinead O'Connor 'Troy'

Random ramblings from my scattered psyche, probably quite self-indulgent- don't say you weren't warned:

Frolicked on down to the Fox last night with a flurry of furry friends. Footloose and fancyfree and fluffing up my feathers, flouncing and flirtacious and... Drank lots of beer, watched the shows, savoured some sweet warm milk direct from the YummyMummy, think I almost ended up with the Scarlet Woman in my bed, frotted with a fistful of freaks, smoked too many ciggies, and snuggled up all cosy with the Hunter-Bear. Pretty fine night for the most part. (Although unbeknownst to me, BabyBear ended up with a thorn in his paw and I'm feeling rather guilty about it. Dr Zoolittle likes to think she can talk to the animals but sometimes mistranslates I'm afraid, and this can have some painful consequences. Ouch).

Weekend again already, almost. Gonna sit around and watch porn on Friday night, play 'bloke' with maybe a beer or two and a home delivered pizza. Then off to play with the Lions this Saturday night. Consider this an APB that the Zoo will be off her leash, gone feral, and needing someone/s to chokechain and hogtie her and perform other acts of animalistic cruelty. Wish list of the moment (although perhaps not all at the one party *gulp*): heavy breast bondage, knives, breath control, interrogation, takedown, gangbang, suturing, stapling, flesh pull, another hook suspension, some good old-fashioned whackywhacky with big thuddy floggers, plastic spider thingy/clingwrap mummy, cut-throat razors, pipes and cigars... hmmmm... is exciting to be back playing about again.

For all the fun and shenanigans of late I am still heartbroken twice over and longing after situations and people that refuse to be and probably aren't good for me anyway. I'd kill a dragon for these people even now- Phoenix to the flames indeed. And I will rise, of course I will. Always do. But damned if it all doesn't take a lot of energy though! Endless incarnations and reconfigurations, mutations and hybridisations, cutting teeth, sprouting wings, growing pains, perpetually a work-in-progress...

Ahh, to bed soon. NattieTheFlattie and I watching Liberty In Restraint, but I'm fading fast.

*STOP PRESS* Have just received an invitation to come down to Melbourne one weekend and wreak some havoc. Thinking around the end of September, so if any of you Mexicans have mischeivous plans to share around that time please forward me the details.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Neither Stone Nor Wing

In another world in another time, I would have grown up neither boy nor girl, but something entirely different. In English there are no words. All the language we have created-- transgender, transsexual, drag queen, drag king, stone butch, high femme, nellie, fairy, bulldyke, he-she, FTM, MTF-- places us in relationship to masculine or feminine, between the two, combining the two, moving from one to the other. I yearn for an image to describe my gendered self, not the shadow land of neither boy nor girl, a suspension bridge tethered between negatives. Rather I want a solid ground with bedrock of its own, wish for language to take me to a brand new place neither masculine nor feminine, day nor night, muscle nor bone, stone nor wing.
Eli Clare
'Neither Stone Nor Wing'
in From The Inside Out: Radical Gender Transformation, FTM and Beyond
edited by Morty Diamond

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Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Feeling Clucky, Punk?

She gives birth. With the force of a lioness. Of a plant. Of a cosmogony. Of a woman ... And in the wake of the child, a squall of Breath! A longing for text! Confusion! What's come over her? A child! Paper! Intoxications! I'm brimming over! My breasts are overflowing! Milk. Ink. Nursing time. And me? I'm hungry, too. The milky taste of ink!- Helene Cixous

Of late much discussion around 'marriage and babies' has come my way, possibly due to my short but intense burst of pseduo-straight-girl behaviour *groan*. Leaving aside the nuptial nonsense, I must confess that the creative potential of maternity and related conditions makes me curious... and when I get curious, I start making plans...

* The lactation project- Pumping underway, already though I get a bit lazy sometimes. Need to buy myself a hand pump, the electric thing seems to have more suction but is harder to drag around the place. See Galactablogue (links) for updates and milky musings.

* The baby project- Am seriously considering being surrogate incubator for a friend of mine. I want to experience the whole alien-being-in-womb experience, the cravings, the stretch marks, even the morning sickness, the shapeshifting and disolution of boundaries... and the birthgasm *shivergulpswoon*. Oh, and breastfeed the baby for a while of course! Just don't want to be responsible for the kid for the next 20 years. Whereas M wants a kid, but also wants to keep her perineum ;) It could work out rather well, but wouldn't be for a couple of years (though don't want to be much older that 35, so can't wait much longer than that). Questions raised about the feasibility of IVF or whether to just go for turkey baster boyjuice and my bioegg. Latter option is easier, cheaper, and less intrusive on all levels- socially, medically, legally etc.Hmmm... who's your Mummy?

Badly Drawn Femme

Forgot to mention the most flattering comments I have received in quite a while: I was in some blissed-out floaty state the other morning I mentioned to Hunter that all the FTMs I had been experiencing of late really made me question the way I conceive of and perform my own gender. Not that I think I am a boy, more that it is getting harder to think of myself as a girl. And the less I imagine myself as explicitly female the more comfortable I feel. H proceeded to inform me that his Darling Girl had recently told him she thought of me as 'genderless', and that he agreed with this. This absolutely floored me, as I was up until now convinced that I was usually figured as a Badly Drawn Femme. Mentioned this to Ali when chatting, and I quote: 'you've definately got your femme moments... but yeah, I wouldn't call you genderless, I'd call you- many gendered? ... it's not an abscence of gender but an explosion of it'. Gender-Abundant? Gender-Glutton? Gender-Excessive? Gender-Irreverant? Or Gender-Irrelevant?

As I said, 'tis all very flattering to me.

But why? And why does it feel odd to lay claim to any sort of gender-variation when I am not 'trans'? Or...? More musing upon this at a later date... work is beckoning now and I need my second coffee to get there.




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Not only a Human Being




I am marked by a tattoo on my hip which reads 'I am not only a human
being, I am a piece of
meat'— a Charley Shiveley quote I chanced upon
years ago in some long-forgotten book. These words seduced me from the instant I
picked up their scent, the blood rushing to my cheeks as I choked and
stammered to swallow them down. I am not only a human being, I am a
piece of
meat. They tasted delicious, succulent and fresh as I rolled
them around my tastebuds. I scribbled them phrase in countless
notebooks, emailed them to friends on the other side of the world, and
spent hours trying to figure out why even just thinking them made my
blood pump quicker. I am not only a human being, I am a piece of
meat.
Steak tartare, sashimi, still pink in the centre and dribbling down my
chin. Visceral, fleshed, marbled and muscled. I am not only a human
being, I am a piece of
meat. Seethed in milk, infused with sweat,
marinated in my own juices. Sexual appetites consuming bodies who are
just begging to be bitten. I am not only a piece of
meat, I am a human
being never felt quite so seductively sticky and surely never made my
this wet. Keep your mind-fuck, I'll take mine in pounds of flesh and
blood. Flesh between my fingers, pinched and puckered. I am not only a
human being, I am a piece of
meat. Blood in my nostrils and cunt and
staining my teeth. The thrill of the hunt and the lure of the kill.
Blood hardens my nipples, my
meat engorged and bursting with abattoir
adrenaline, waiting for the hounds to sniff me out.

(From my final undergrad essay ever, 2005)

Punch Drunk and Punctured


'uptown one hundred skirts are bleeding
and mr. evangelist says
she's hit ' -Birthday Party, 'She's Hit'

(Monday 24th July)

Woke up this morning with a punch-drunk hangover- disorientated, can't walk straight, everything hurts just enough to prompt constant memories of the night before and thirsty for hair of the dog that bit me repeatedly.

Friday night: Hellfire. Nice big knife takes my breath away, nice big whips leave me breathless with my back all marked up and my bits all a-fluster.

Saturday night: A select group of perverted persons come out to play in honour of Mummy Laura's birthday. This debauched affair was held in the most beautifully equipped playspaces and dungeons (a private house I hadn't visited in a while, living in The Land of 'Nilla as I was *swallows hard*). Swoon as I am shown around- a sling, sharps bins, gloves, drawers full of needles, a violet wand, more whips that I could ever know what to do with, paddles, a coffin, rubber floors (all the better to be kicked around), canes, butt plugs, clamps and many more things of which wet and violent dreams are made... I remember it all so clearly now!

And so, to the fun and games:

First up was my saline labia infusion. Pink bits (inner and outer) pumped full of saline, via a rather chunky needle, then pierced shut- all performed by Mummy Laura (Melbourne). Then the lot was attacked with a violent wand as she tried to see if she could make the metal smoke (see photo above). Throughout this I variously squirmed, wriggled, got all hot and sweaty, scoffed ice water, said 'ouch' a few times, giggled, pulled weird faces (see above pic again) and even whimpered at the end *blush*. Held tight to Hunter's paw, almost biting through his glove at one point, and I was very grateful to have a hand-holder for this adventure! It was quite an ouchy procedurein parts, though I never done any genital piercings apart from the three permanent ones so not a pain I have much experience with. The sensation of the saline going in and eveything starting to swell was magnificent, like lusty engorgements or pre-menstrual tit tightness... just felt ready to burst! Also had an element of genderfucking mutation to it, 'she's got BALLS' alright (and furry ones at that- haven't shaved down there in weeks). Made me somewhat horny to look at them, then when the needles came out and my thighs were dripping blood... thankyou Mummy! Grinning like a fool, delirious and shaky I somehow get out of the sling and head outside for a smoke doing a curious wiggly-wank-walk when I realise that my newly-fashioned bits and pieces rub together every time I move. Lots of crossing and uncrossing legs while having a fag or two.

With ciggies finished and beer fetched I decide to increase the friction somewhat with the help of the abovementioned bear boy. Bleeding lots, and can longer tell whether its from the puncture wounds or somewhere else nearby. And was not trying to staunch the flow either. Messy messy messy.

In no particular order, rest of my fun went something along the lines of: breathplay, knifeplay, punched long and hard and booted and wrestled to the ground and beaten with stick by H. For hours. Inbetween rounds drink beer and champagne and huddle under the outside heater smoking too much. Watched lots of play, talked lots, flirted lots, repeated most of the above for the next few hours, crashed out for a teensy bit once the sun came up and then H got his grrl to come and pick us up because the train seemed impossible to manage- bless that woman! Arrived home in time to have porridge and shower and head off to Biennale art at the MCA and lots of caffeine at the Rocks coffee festival. Good thing I ordered that last double shot in my soy latte- somehow I didn't make it home again until the wee small hours thanks to a random business man buying me vodka at the Oxford, an old friend dragging me to a bar in Surry Hills, a pole-dancing pirate, and dykes from Mars.