More Beanz Wisdom

From the Mouth of Beanz yet again:

For those who know me well, you'll know I can only actually date someone when they're about to leave the country - that way I never get rejected because you know, it's all romantic and circumstantial instead of you know, people getting sick of me. As my housemate (I) says 'I need to find someone, have a wild and passionate and blissful affair...and then have them die in a tragic car crash. That way you never have to deal with their bad eating habits or day-to-day mundane shit, and you have a perfect memory of them and you're all tragic and haunted for your next love'

Jake The Rake returns

"Possibly the Internet's only webcomic about polyamorous bisexuals!"

Jake The Rake is probably my all-time favourite comic strip. And he is back online. Check out Identity Crisis, and then peruse the rest of the collection. There used to be a 'Which Jake The Rake Character Are You' quiz, which invariably led to me being Melissa. Still pretty much sums it up, but I do more hunting these days:

Melissa isn't interested in labels, she's interested in cool kinky sex with cute people. When asked if she meant men and women, she replied "Amongst others". She's the hunted, not the hunter but always manages to arrange to be chased by the right person.

Truce

You call it over and I call you psycho
Significant other? Just say we were lovers!
And we'll call it even, we'll call it even....

I am the ground zero ex-friend you ordered
Disguised as a hero to get past your borders
I know when I'm wanted
I'll leave if you ask me to
Mind my own business and speak when I'm spoken to

I am an accident waiting to happen
I'm laughing like mad as you strangle the captain
My place may be taken, but make no mistake
From a little black box
I can say without shame
That you've lost
Do you know what you've lost?

- Dresden Dolls
'Truce'

A Small Attempt At Empathy

And for all your talk
You don't say much that's real
I think I know more than you
About the way that you feel
I understand your anger
And your apathy
I think if I was you
You're who I'd be

- Ani DiFranco
'Used to You'

Oh heck, I MUST be turning into a lesbian. Quoting Ani now. And yes, if you think this relates to you then it probably does.

Happy Halloween

Is it appropriate to wish someone a Happy Halloween? Maybe a Spooky Halloween? A Creepy Halloween? An Undead Halloween?

Me and the homies having Halloween dinner tonight. Making all sorts of spooky foodstuffs, strangely coloured and looking like various body parts and fluids. Unfortunately not making these eyeballs though, as way too much gelatin for this vegan household (and no time for a trip to the health food store for substitutes).

On a totally unrelated note, I just came across a curious section of the Herald online, called All Men Are Liars. Lots of interesting information for you menfolk out there on how to be proper blokes in a modern world and all. Featuring 'Why men play games', 'The secret language of men', 'Are blokes obsolete?'. Funny, scary, or words to live by depending on your perspective.

Thankyou Fairfax

Apparently some naughty homosexuals have been using the toilets of 'My Store' Myer's city shop for fornicating. And the Herald has been so kind as to publish this info, and to inform those of us so inclined of some other local beats, and a website on which to find details of such places. Nice to see the conservative press being so helpful.

Another Zoo Rant On Love and Apology *EDITED*

Intro to the Rant: The mate I was not long ago planning to move up North with is now moving somewhere else with someone else and I am trying to be happy for them. Really I am. I am TRYING to be mature and wish them well. But when I first heard the news I snapped, spoke unwisely, and was promptly told to 'grow up'. Oh, how I wish I could be cool in the face of dissillusionment and the shattering of dreams! Just take a deep breath, take a step back from it, consider the consequences before speaking my mind. Or deciding not to speak my mind.

But try as I might I can't be civilised about such things. I can't pretend I don't have emotions that I have, and I don't appear to have a censor mechanism anymore. I'm the wildcard, the firecracker sitting out in the blazing sun, the bomb just waiting to go off. I don't want to be like this. I don't want to be the ranting and raving hysteric, I don't want to be the one people are scared of. Everyone gets disappointed sometimes, everyone has people lie to them, decieve them, leave them in the lurch, make promises they have no intention of keeping. I know my predicament is not exactly unique, I'm not the first to have a loved one give them their marching orders or a mate cut them off the Christmas Card list. Short of not engaging with anyone, I can't control how people choose to treat me. All I can hope to control is how I react to such situations, and at the moment it seems I don't even have much hope of that. Its like I have used up every reserve of strength and control in the last year or so just to stay alive. Behaving well seems like a luxury somehow, when surviving at all seems sometimes unlikely. I'm working on it...

I don't just switch off and stop loving when somebody treats me badly or stops loving me. I still miss the good times, I still wish that the adventures we had planned together were going to happen. Yes, I am probably more gullible than most people, probably not cynical enough to take promises people make with the measure of suspicion that will stop me from being disappointed when they turn out to be lying or to change their minds and leave me in the lurch without apology. Maybe I just haven't been hurt enough yet to grow that tough layer of hide that will stop me feeling the blows. And I'm not going to pretend that I'm not in pain just so that somebody else doesn't have to deal with the consequences of their actions. I'm not going to be the one who is supposed to claim all of the fault for being injured, to be made to feel like there is something wrong with me for trusting and taking people at their word. I don't believe that faith is a personality defect. I don't intend to become a jaded old bitch who is scared to fall in love with anyone or anything, and I refuse to allow the inconsiderate and dishonest behaviours of some to cloud my vision of the whole of humanity. I refuse to apologise for any of this.

I know that the way in which I handle my pain is not always healthy or productive. But I am absolutely sick to death of being told that I 'feel too much'. Has it actually occurred to any of the people who accuse me of this that maybe they 'feel too little'? That it isn't actually a sign of any great maturity or wisdom to be able to cut yourself off from your emotions? To be scared of intensity to the point where you have to go running whenever you find yourself feeling any greater love for someone than that you have for your football team or your favourite beer? To be terrified of passion? To stop fucking when you can no longer dismiss it as casual (and therefore meaningless)? That you can't have a relationship that lasts long enough to get to really know someone else? Another day, another partner, serial monogamy that always falls just short of any deep connection.

This is about being able to give something your all, about being willing to take risks and make sacrifices and deal with the fact that sometimes it will be challenging. You will be scared. Uncomfortable. Outside your comfort zone. It may make you reassess who you are. What you are doing with your life. What you value. It won't always be easy.

Sometimes I think I expect too much from other people, and myself. I expect us all to be willing to struggle, to sacrifice huge amounts time and energy and brainspace to finding what is truly good in the world. To not be content with mediocrity even when it is so much easier to obtain, to not be happy to settle for some pale imitation of the norm (or even the norm itself), to expect the sublime and the blissful and the joyous and the ecstatic and not accept anything less. To not just follow the scripts we were handed at birth: boy meets girl, butch meets femme, your identity is reliant on your relationships for validity (can you be a straight boy without fucking a straight girl? can you be butch if your partner isn't femme?), non-monogamy is the work of the devil, you should only hold alliance with one person and one god and one church and one state. I struggle with the idea that being gay or lesbian or bi or trans has such potential for transgression and liberation, yet there are so many people out there trying to prove that despite their G/L/B/T status they are just as good as anyone else... what the fuck is all that about? What is the point in using all of the power and energy that you hold by the very fact that you are on the outside just to find ways to get to be on the inside?

Sometimes you will believe that you just aren't strong enought to handle it. There are days when almost all I want in the world is to go back to being 'the straight normal chick in the 'burbs'. Take out my piercings, grow my hair, get back my job at the bank, find a nice straight boy with whom to settle down and find some magical potion that will allow me to smother any queer feeling I might have. To pass again, to not have yobs scream abuse at me from their cars or supposedly queer partners leave me for being too left of centre. Censor all of the bits that make other people squirm or question themselves. Stop reading queer theory, stop being a genderfucking freak, stop questioning what is expected of me. Or at the very least, find a nice girl and get a couple of cats and start reading LOTL as something other than parody and buy a house together and have a commitment ceremony and hold dinner parties for six and just be as much like everyone else as I can possibly force myself to be. Don't be afraid, I am just like you.

It all reminds me of that Devo song 'Freedom Of Choice':

Freedom of choice
Is what you've got
Freedom from choice
Is what you want

Weekend Frolicking

(Grr, I had just written this all up when Blogger decided to crash and eat my post. So, here goes again...)

Friday night started off with Reclaim the Night. Caught up with the Buxom Wench and her childling, then marched with Whoretic and the rest of the Scarlet Alliance troupe. Walking and dancing through the streets with a bunch of whistling, chanting, drumming, hollering, defiant women was a fabulous way to start the weekend!

Then came home for dinner and a costume change. Headed to Kooky late, getting there around 1am. Was hardly any of the usual crew I know there, but ran into a great girl from Uni and a few other randoms so had dancing buddies for most of the night. Then danced on my own, and loitered about waiting for a certain rude boy (the one from last Thursday) to finish work so I could follow him home. Spent Saturday morning rolling about with him, dozing, chatting, watching Will and Grace on cable, smoking, and having a rough-and-tumble dirty old time.

Headed home via chores early-arvo, did some washing and dyed my hair and showered and set about creating a sort of demented hybrid clown/doll outfit for Hunter's birthday bash- tutu, fishnets, black and white wig with wired plaits, clown makeup and a red foam nose. Turned up to Sly with extra noses, made various people wear them so I could photograph a whole clown series. Got slightly drunken, flirted about with Whoretic and the Buxom Wench, and smooched with the GC. Somehow decided that it would be a good idea to head in to Trick or Treat at the Flinders (ditched the tutu in favour of just my new frilly knickers- much more practical for a crowded dance party). May have been a better idea to just head back to the GC's while we still had some of our faculties left, but, well, is easy to have 20/20 hindsight! Was a nice enough soiree, good music, lots of sexy folk to frolic with. Danced a bit, chatted a bit, and breastfed the GC at the bar before deciding enough was enough and jumping in a cab back to GC's for some mindblowingly intense flogging and fornicating. I may not want to play Femme all the time, but there is something about being thrown down and shagged senseless by a big butch that makes me just dissolve into a puddle... much of the time. Sometimes I have a very naughty toppy side that emerges andmakes me wantto turn the whole scene into take-dwon though *wink*.

Woke up saddlesore and seedy, and couldn't drag ourselves out of bed (for more reasons than one) until mid-arvo. Convinced GC that we needed to leave the ghetto* and go get some sunshine and food near the Harbour. Jumped on a bus to the Quay, watched a very small violinist play for small change, and another busker fold herself into a 16inch box, before running along to Costi's and gorging ourselves silly on seafood. A fishburger each, calamari, prawn skewers, chippies, salad... very satisfying. Wandered about the markets for a bit, then it got too chilly to stay out without jackets so toddled back to GC's for more lusty liasing and a early evening nap. Then GC headed downstairs for a drink with a mate, and I got picked up by Schwee to go see my singing-songwriting cousin play an acoustic set in Newtown. He was bloody good, and all in all it was a very nice chilled way to finish off the weekend.

But now it is Monday, and I must start getting some serious writing done for these conferences. And put together a couple more abstracts too. Wish me luck!

*Sometimes my whole world is bounded by my house, the Sly, Newtown station and Broadway. It gets claustrophobic. I need to see the ocean...

Show Us Your Tits

Spent the last couple of hours working on photo shoot with a friend of Mistress O'Mayhem's. The basic idea is expressed in this piece I read last night

Prolactin procures sobs sweet and salty, breasts and eyes both shed tears at orgasm and grief. Sitting in the warm bath, my breasts cry me a river in delight and distress. Breasts bared in mourning or lust or some intoxicating affective combination, weeping straight from the heart. Let-down and letdown. Drowning my sorrows and washing away my sins, drop by drop by drop…

Essentially, the pix ended up being very simple. Just me, my hands and breasts and tummy dripping with milk against a plain fabric background. Mostly black and white, mostly quite close up. I'm not the artiste, but I imagine that the milk will glisten, opulant and decadent. As I squirted milk on queue, squeezed drops across my belly and chest and licked it from my fingers, I felt like I was in a porn movie. As Fiona Giles once said about milk though 'it sprays farther, tastes better, and lasts longer' than boyjuice.

Maybe I don't need a boy to give me that pearl necklace after all.

(If anyone wants to read the full piece I have posted it on Galactablogue. As a teaser, here is the beginning:

Its warmer than fresh milk in here. My breasts are sweating white juice and my cream is turning sour as my internal temperature rises. Unrefrigerated, unhomogenised, unpasteurised, unprocessed. Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet/Turning to curds and whey. My solids liquefy and I am mozzarella oozing from my areole, my liquids solidify and I am lumps of cheddar wedged fast beneath my nipples. Its warmer than fresh milk in here. My blue-veins throb with exertion and heat-stroke and its all beginning to stink. )

Words of Wisdom from Her Royal Whoreness

Check out the musing of Whoretic at Her Royal Whoreness. It contains some of the most breathtaking discussion of femme-ness and relationships and queer that I have come across in a long time. For example:

No matter how queer we all are, how feminist, how into alternative relationship models - the Hallmark sentiments still resonate with many, many queer women. Still over-looking obvious issues with a partner or prospective partner's character. Still valuing a partner or prospective partner's interests, goals and needs over our own. Still putting the 'relationship' in a central place in our lives, and putting more energy into it than our careers, hobbies or passions. Still changing or downplaying our uniqueness or things that are ordinarily of huge importance to us in order to not freak out a partner or prospective partner. Still feeling completely wrecked when relationships end.

But don't ust take my word for it. Click on the link and discover it for yourself.

Reclaim The Night/ Kooky/Clowns/Skit For Tat

Tonights the night to reclaim...

Reclaim The Night
6pm, Town Hall, Sydney
Probably with the whores :)

Home for dinner and dress-ups then head to Kooky, late. Most likely head in on the last-ish train (get there around 12:30-1am). Need to be there when it closes, for reasons best left to be your filthy imaginations, so don't want to get there too early. Besides, the music is never really that good until late these days it seems.

And, of course, its Hunter's Birthday Clown Attack at the Sly tomorrow night from 5pm.

Last night's Skit for Tat was brilliant! First up, a fabulous play based on email correspondance between an Aussie girl and one from the Gaza strip, then the cutest dragged-up king singing the sweetest songs, Norrie performing rollicking versions of Stand By Your Gender and the Cunt song, my dear self reading out some Lacto Oddness (couldn't bring myself to lactate on stage, though did squirt the audience afterwards), a discussion of trans and intersex issues by Jenz and Norrie, and finally a duo performing stuff on keyboard and guitar. Really nice selection of people, caught up with some folk I hadn't seen for a while, and very nice to be curled up against GC's leg while we watched the shows, exchanging snuggles and pats...

Feeling very affectionate towards the GC. She's charming, considerate, generous, appreciates a corset, is much red-hanky fun and has one of the finest collections of cocks I have ever seen (and knows exactly what to do with them). But the Gentleman Caller must remain just that, at least for the time being. It is Zoo's Summer of Stepping Out after all.

Everybody Knows

Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that you've been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two

Everybody knows you've been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows

- Leonard Cohen

Everything Old Is New Again

My last three SomeOnes came from this pub. One was leaned against a wall in a spiky chain collar and pinstrip suit like she owned the joint. One works behind the bar and got me drinking Coopers again. One lives upstairs and finally I got to see the view from up there. Maybe I should get out more...

Same pool table with same lean. Same toilets that require some expertise to flush. Same takeway from down the road. Same beer poured from the same taps into the same glasses to the same mouths. Same people exchanging the same jokes. Same mates reading the same gay press and planning the same parties. Same scrag fights out on the street on a Wednesday night.

In the corner the same boy sits in the same chair eating the same food with the new girl. In the opposite corner the same me sits in the same chair stubbing out the same cigarettes in the same ashtrays with the new butch.

Lusty Lady

Just came across this article Lusty Lady by Rachel Kramer Bussel at Village Voice:

Deciding to take a break is selfish on one level: it forces me to deal with what I like and don't like about myself, rather than trying to placate other people's perceptions. I've been told by people I've dated that I'm alternately "dating my writing" and being "overwhelming." While my first instinct was to even out whatever quirks I have, it's clear that I can't please everyone. I can only be myself, and yes, sometimes I get lost in my laptop and other times I act dorky and gushy, and I'll fill my lover's mailbox with cards and gifts. I've gone over these epithets countless times in my mind, trying to make them more palatable, trying to retrace my steps with these past partners to pinpoint exactly where the relationships, however casual, fell apart. Taking a pause from that pointless cycle of self-recrimination has freed me up to enjoy the people who are in my life, and really pay attention to my friends and family rather than just using them as sounding boards to help fix my issue du jour.

Its not all me, but much of it hits home. Have a read.

Star Power

I do like these stars. The little Capriquarian gets abundance, expansiveness and the mobilization of tremdous power. Ought to be quite a week!From FreeWillAstrology again:

CAPRICORN [Dec. 22-Jan. 19] Thomas Paine was a zealous insurrectionary. He wrote incendiary pamphlets that helped ignite and sustain America's struggle for independence from Great Britain. Early in his life, however, he worked making women's girdles, which are among the most constrictive and oppressive garments in the history of the world. Do you think there was a connection between his two gigs? Like maybe his later struggle for liberation was an unconscious atonement for his youthful labors? That's my hypothesis. In the coming week, Capricorn, I suggest you instigate a Thomas Paine-like boomerang. Think of something you did in the past that constricted your spirit or squeezed other people's possibilities. Use that memory as a launching pad as you unleash a brilliant stroke in the name of abundance and expansiveness. Halloween costume suggestion: freedom fighter.

AQUARIUS [Jan. 20-Feb. 18] Lightning strikes somewhere on the earth 6,000 times every minute. A single bolt may carry a million volts and reach a temperature of 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit. If this elemental force could be tamed and utilized, it would provide enough energy to raise a cruise ship six feet in the air. While you won't be able to literally harness a lightning bolt in the coming week, Aquarius, you could accomplish the metaphorical equivalent. At least temporarily, you have an uncanny talent for mobilizing tremendous power that's normally too hot to handle. Halloween costume suggestion: a relaxed, smiling lightning bolt.

Moo Zoo

Just finished writing spoken word piece for tonight's gig at Lan Franchis. And for those that want to see me, my time has changed to 8:35. Wish me luck...

The Return of Bridget Harrington

Some of you will remember the delicious Ms Harrington from her visit in the middle of this year. I certainly do! Tied up, suspended, pierced in the forehead, covered in candlewax then thrown to the floor for a good kicking- certainly a show to remember. Swoooooooooooooooooooooooon.... (Pic courtesy of Hellfire). And now she is back in town for L'Erotica and some workshops:


SLPA Education presents Bridgett Harrington International guest presenter
Workshops in November/ December 2006

Thursday November 2nd
Foot Fetishism and Foot Torture

Thursday November 16th
Taking the Lead- Human Animal Play

Thursday November 30th
Beyond Bowed Heads- Rituals for D/s

Thursday December 7th
Speed Bondage! *

Bookings essential for all workshops
Aurora Gallery, Newtown
Thursdays at 7 pm sharp!
$25 or $15 SLPA Members
* special class $30/20

please rsvp to reserve a space slpa.education@gmail.com or SMS 0411 471373
http://www.sydneyleatherpride.org/education.htm
email slpa.education@gmail.com to register for future events and updates

Ms Harrington’s bio
http://www.ropelover.com/portfolio.php

Boys Who Perform

I know I have mentioned this before, and my blog sometimes runs the risk of becoming a Queer Community NoticeBoard, but seems that the QueerCentral crew at The Sly Fox are still looking for performers for Wednesday nights. Particularly boys. So if you be a male hula hooper, go go dancer, burlesque beauty, vaudevillian vamp, twisted ventriloquist, disco dolly, drag hag, cabaret queen, lipsync-ing lad or have some other performance 'talent' you would like to share with an adoring queer audience then get in touch with them. NOW! Actually, its Wednesday today, so... what are you waiting for? Get down there tonight, check it out, have a beer or two, chat up the bar staff, pick up some trade (trust me, its almost impossible not to) and talk to the Booking Boy about signing up to entertain the masses.

BreakDownDance

Loved and Lost

Loved and lost
And some may say
When usually it's Nothing
Surely you're happy
It should be this way?
I said "No"
And then I shot myself
So, drink, drink, drink
And be ill tonight

- The Smiths
'Unhappy Birthday'

Inspiration for Mutation

Just working out the details for the work Lukas Z will be doing on me in November. And discovered this link to Body-Art. Look under Mutations for some beautiful implant and scarification work.

Stuck By The Muse

Such a frenzy of blogging today! Notices, musings, links.. hopefully this means my brain is back and working somewhat after a very naughty weekend. Lady Zoo does not often partake of lollies these days (must be how she maintains such a trim figure *g*) but decided that it might be a nice idea to have (just) one again. Yummy! Especially when combined with the GC, two bottles of champagne and many new toys to play with. Then floating down to a beautiful sunny afternoon on the rooftop of the Zanzi with GC and a couple of boy-friends, stuffing ourselves stupid on haloumi with maple syrup, chilli calamari, kebabs for the carnivores, prawns, dips, turkish bread, olives and hair-of-the-dog beverages before a pre-dinner nap. Sweet.

Still waiting to be struck by the Muse in regards to Thursday night's ten minutes of something at Lan Franchis. Have some pervy bits of lacto-writing to read, but not sure that this is enough. Need to make them into some sort of cohesive 'piece'. Hmmm... would like to incorporate my own milk in there somewhere, but not sure how. Don't express enough in ten minutes to do anything with really, and it doesn't spray far enough to squirt the audience. Any ideas? And yes, Whoretic, there will most likely be Bataille ;)

Nice Work If You Can Get It

Have just heard that there are 3 casual (regular shifts, 2-3 a week) plus one full-time position on offer at a certain VERY well-known and nicely run boy sex-on-premises venue in Sydney. If you be a likely lad (of whatever configuration- ftm should be fine) who is not averse to keeping an eye on boy-on-boy action and donning gloves to clean up the spillage, and you're looking for a bit of extra cash, then give me a call or email and I'll put you in touch with the relevant persons.

Salty and Sweet

My breasts are full again and I reach for the baby-mint gender-neutral coloured plastic sucking device and rhythmically squeeze my milk out into the bottle. Ten minutes each side, then unscrew the lid and drink my own sweet liquid. Aaaaah...

In certain ways it is similar to masturbation. Satisfying most of the time, a beautiful act of auto-eroticism and self-care, a treat to relieve horniness or the desire to be touched or boredom or to cure whatever ills you. There is a 'money shot', a release of tension, and milk is just as likely to stick your magazine pages together as most other bodily substances. But sometimes the yearning to share the pleasure almost overwhelms me. At these times a pump is no substitute for the mouth of another. Only one half of the equation is being filled, the self/self pleasure circuits satisfied but not the desire for self/other mergings. Those moments of blurred bodily boundaries that breastfeeding entails by its very nature and design.

Before my milk came in there was a time when I dry-nursed someone whom I loved and who loved me, while the rain beat down around us. It was Sanctuary. The eyes that looked up from my breast seemed to recognise this, there was vulnerability and trust and abandoning of inhibitions. It felt pure and unadulterated.

I miss such connections, and sometimes as I pump the tears fall and water down my efforts. Breastmilk is both salty and sweet.

Feeding Breasts

Someone on a adult nursing list recently described a comic they had seen years ago:

A woman is sitting at a table in a restaurant, with a waiter standing over her and telling her disapprovingly that 'there is no breastfeeding here Ma'am'. Look to her breasts, and you see that they are exposed and eating the food from her plate.

Boom boom! How did this wordplay not occur to me?

Pass the Maple Syrup, Dr Zoo

Nice program at Univeristy of Toronto:
Sex ed gets a lot sexier at Canadian University

'The program includes a drama course called "Sexual Performance: Case Studies in S/M (sadomasochism)" and the arts and literature course "Queerly Canadian," for which one student wrote an in-depth review of a male strip show. But it also focuses on traditional academic discussion -- from Plato to same-sex marriage, with courses like "Theories of Sexuality" and "Sexual Diversity Politics."'

Reckon this is where I should be headed. Surely they need someone, ie me, to run a Sexuality of Reproduction course, featuring all the pervy bits of birth, lactation and all that follows the old in-out. Birthgasm anyone?

(And I quite like Canadians, not only do they blitz the Beer Olympics much of the time but there be a certain Ms Toronto and Ms Ottowa that made my time in Sweden very pleasant indeed. )

Stuffing, Packing and Binding

Ah, the pleasures of fairly mindless work. Getting myself a few extra days here and there at Uni in the printing and copying section. Which means that sometimes they pay me silly-money to stuff things into envelopes, bind papers and pack up orders. Hectic, but can usually disengage brain quite a bit and just cruise along dancing to some retro radio station and exchanging small talk with the other droogs. And all extra $$$ for the Great Northern Project.

Sip The Honey and Spit Out The Sting

How could something so good turn so bad?
I'd do it all again 'cos you're the best I ever had
- Paul Kelly
'Darling It Hurts'

Its probably a touch early for end of year summing up, but just struck me that the profit-and-loss statement for this year is in disarray- and I can only hope I end up in the black somehow? Fun trip to Germany with MostOuchyEx, almost marrying MOE, starting my PhD, traumatic dumping by MOE, being dumped by the friends who took her side, falling in love with The Lost Boy, being homeless for a while, reclaiming my kinkiness, sweet moments of utter joy and magic, my first flesh hook suspension, a dear friend dying, a fabulous road-trip to Lismore, plans to move up North (with a partner-in-shenanigans, but now solo), losing TLB as lover and mate, hypnotherapy, panic attacks and the return of my post-traumatic-stress, forgetting who I was/am, some very nice shows, some very nice new piercings, lots of new friends and playmates, getting back in touch with some old friends and playmates, quitting smoking, starting smoking again, lactating, many parties, turning vegaquarian again, learning to sleep alone again, finding a beautiful place to live with wonderful people and drinking much beer. Grateful for what I have gained but still very sad about some of what I have lost. And so hard to accept that some it is really, truly gone.

Sip the honey and spit out the sting.

Growling and Grunting

Finally hooked up with the tattooed trannyboi I've been chasing on and off for a long time. Scars make me swoon. So does the taste of t, stubble scraping my skin, and 'blow jobs' rather than 'going down'. And in this case, the texture of so much inked flesh...

Ooooh, and just bought myself another new cock, one much easier to discreetly pack than dear Sire. Might wear it out tonight under something tight when I go a-calling on the Gentleman Caller. It won't be a total surpise I'm sure, but still may prove a little entertaining/exciting to turn up all tits, fishnets and bulge.

And on the milk front, I think changing my brand of fenugreek has made all the difference. Milk entirely drinkable now, not sickly strong but sweet and fresh and YUMMY.

T-shirt Tale

Saw a slightly unfriendly-looking person in a 'Fuck Milk- Got Pot?' shirt at the supermarket in Newtown last night (presumably a response to the 'Got Milk?' campaign in the US?). Would have loved a photo of me squeezing out a few drops at him as we stood next to the dairy cabinet but wasn't game to ask him really...

On a milky note: was feeling silly last night when presented with a disrobed Whoretic, and gave her a milk bath (of a fashion). Could spray more than usual, but daresay my aim is getting worse!

Stepping Out

Just installed LimeWire. And this is the first song I downloaded:

Now -
The mist across the window hides the lines
But nothing hides the colour of the lights that shine
Electricity's so fine
Look and dry your eyes

We -
So tired of all the darkness in our lives
With no more angry words to say can come alive
Get into a car and drive
To the other side

Chorus:
Me babe - steppin' out
Into the night
Into the light
You babe - steppin' out
Into the night
Into the light

We -
Are young but getting old before our time
We'll leave the TV and the radio behind
Don't you wonder what we'll find?
Steppin' out tonight

You -
Can dress in pink and blue just like a child
And in a yellow taxi turn to me and smile
We'll be there in just a while
If you follow me

- Joe Jackson
'Stepping Out'

Pin And Mount

I dreamt about you last night
And I fell out of bed twice
You can pin and mount me
Like a butterfly

But take me to the haven of your bed
Was something that you never said
Two lumps please
You're the bee's knees
And so am I...

- The Smiths
'Reel Around The Fountain'

Arty Farty

Yay! Have spent the last month (or more it seems) writing abstracts, proposals, schmoozing, networking, planning, outlining projects etc and not actually PRODUCING much as such. Is necessary, but now at the point where only a couple more abstracts due and can start making things...

Nice photo shoot planned for this Saturday for a dear friend and fellow pervert's Uni project. Two of us pierced and laced together. Should be pretty, and its been a wee while since my flesh has been punctured by pointy things so am a tad excited.

Also looks like I have a date for the Tears/Breasts are Crying photo making. And have to practice/invent something for the Lan Franchis night next week. Busy little arty farty Zoo!

Where I come from a Trick IS a Treat

Nice dirty way to spend almost-Halloween:

Trick Or Treat
In the mood for a dark and sexy evening?
Well, come along to Trick or Treat, a collaboration between TRIBE and SLPA, with prizes for the best dressed, and a show that's tasted blood and wants more!
Date: Saturday 28th October 2006
Time: 10:00 pm till 6.00am
Location: The Flinders Hotel 63 Flinders St Darlinghurst
DJs: Feisty and Mark Alsop
Coat check available
Tickets: $10 (members discount on door) pre-sale at SAX Fetish
And check out the flyer .

PS Those of you who know Hunter should get your bright little clown faces down to the Sly on Saturday 28th too, from 5pm, for his birthday celebrations.

Trashy Bitch

Three nights in a row with the Gentleman Caller and I am GRINNING and rather delirious. True, it could be the amount of alcohol consumed over the last 72 hours addling my brain, but I'm tending towards thinking it is the amount of seriously intense company-keeping. (Really do wish I had kept up those yoga classes though- have pulled all manner of muscles in my shenanigans)

PS Worked out who my Mystery Texter from Sunday night was. And no, its not another Stalker! Just an old mate with a new number :)

Escapades

Ahh, haven't posted much about my goings-on lately. For those who are interested in my escapades, here's some of who and what I've been up to... A bit messy and all-over-the-place, but then so is my head at the moment :)

Spending many nights at The Newtown. Variously schmoozing and croozing with Beculum, Whoretic, AngeTheFlange, and The Stalker. Turns out the Stalker is as absolutely delightful in person as when posting anonymously on this here blog. Fabulous to meet yet another kindred spirit!

Did a big presentation to my department at Uni on Friday. Seemed to go down quite well *phew*. Had some drinks afterwards, then home for dinner and a bottle of red with Beanz before we decided to head down to Kooky. Fabulous night really, much dancing and much flirtation with a certain someone who is somewhat confusing yet somewhat intriguing. Slowly, slowly, slowly, but reckon this one is worth the wait. I do like the shy ones,especially when they are rumoured to be dirty old perverts...

Most of Saturday spent in lounge room writing T porn, chatting to Beanz and avoiding the blistering heat before heading out to yummy dinner at Aunty C's and then onto the a most wonderful party with her and the new Gentleman Caller. Got delightfully drunken and debauched *swoon*.

And I have been getting back to The Sly again, of a fashion. Spent most of Sunday upstairs there engaging in hours of utterly mindblowing naughtiness with the GC. Must confess that sometimes it is rather delicious to be taken to dinner by a charming butch with a bottle of champagne, before leisurely strolling down the street for drinks and pool, then being whisked away to be shagged absolutely senseless for the third (fourth? fifth?) time that day. Sooooo much good loving lately! The Goddess of Amazing Fucking and Red Hanky Fun is certainly smiling upon me ;)

I have so much milk! Due to the above debauchery I didn't get home for a day and a half, and didn't have my pump with me... I did hand-express some (check your mirrors for evidence if I was at your place!), and am sure the GC got a mouthful at times, but hadn't really emptied my breasts for about 36hours. Attempted to show GC my 'fraggle dance' this morning and almost passed out when bouncing about. So THIS is what engorgement feels like! Pumped for ages when I finally got home, and got more milk than ever, but still feeling quite full and a little tender. (Is rather nice despite the discomfort, almost like being fisted in that feeling of being right at your bursting point)

Speaking of milk, here's the Skit For Tat program. I'm doing a milk piece on the 26th, and there is MUCH interesting stuff going on.

Ahh, the library awaits me. Must get back into this study business again, go to a seminar on breastfeeding, make a proper beginning on my conference papers etc. stop talkingabout it just bloody well do it!

The Pig That's Bit Squeals

One of my favourite children's books of all time is L M Montgomery's 'Magic For Marigold' (1929). In it, the cantankerous Old Grandmother has some very wise and witty opinions indeed, and this is one of my favourites:

"I have no advice to give. I have nothing but a little wisdom and I cannot give you THAT. Neither can I help it if a woman has a bargain-counter nose"

"Are you referring to MY nose," inquired Aunt Leah with spirit. She often said she was the one in the clan who wasn't afraid of Old Grandmother.

"The pig that's bit squeals," retorted Old Grandmother.

Zoo's Summer of Stepping Out

I have decided that this will be Zoo's Summer of Stepping Out.

No boyfriends or girlfriends. I will have chaperones, escorts, gentleman callers and lady friends. And I will dally and step out and keep company and promenade with these characters with abandon.

Another bittersweet song...

I try to talk to you
And can't get past the weather
The friend I thought I knew
Found somethin' somewhere better
So I'm hangin' on your line
Thought we could speak together
Don't know what it is with you
You seem gone forever

I'm spending all my time
Driving 'round, faking clever
With a girl who seem alright
And another one who's better
I don't know if I lied
When I said we're not together
But I tried to talk to you
And somehow you seem gone...

I know what could've been
Try not to think about it
Found it hard to live with this
Longed to live without it
My dreams have caught me out
I find myself surrounded
By the odds of our own ends
Enough said about it

I'm spending all my time
Driving 'round, faking clever
With a girl who seem alright
And another one who's better
I don't know if I lied
When I said we're not together
But I tried to talk to you
And somehow you seem gone...

I've given up some things
I guess that doesn't matter
Started other things
I guess that doesn't matter
I finally wrote your song
Another unsent letter
In a pile addressed to you
Care of something somewhere better...

- Machine Gun Fellatio
'Unsent Letter'

Double Vision

We don't see things as they are
We see things as we are

- Anais Nin

Moody Blues

On-again, off-again. Hot, cold. S/he loves me, s/he loves me not. Week to week, day to day, hour to hour, chopping and changing, with a bewildered and exhausted Zoo struggling to keep up with the latest development and somehow falling into believing that she actually caused this instability. That it is her fault that her partner/s suffer wild mood swings and treat her with little to no respect.

How much time have I wasted over the last two and a half years waiting for the axe to fall even when I am happy? Being with people who will show me all the love in the world one minute just to take it all away the next? Who will play power games with my emotions, keep me in a constant state of uncertainty? Who will completely withdraw their affections on a whim, then come back all cuddles and pats the next minute? How many times did they walk out on me and I let them back in? Begged them to come back even? For what? Another few days of happiness with that ever-present fear/knowledge that it is about to be all taken away again?

I'm sure this is a psychological tool used to wear people down in prisons and such. Whether deliberately intended by these partners as a form of torture or not, it is manipulative and cruel. I feel somehow like I am in some doco on abusive relationships, like the bashed wife arguing that hubby only broke her nose 'cos dinner was late and she really deserved to be beaten for her incompetence. In this case its Zoo crawling around justifying her partners breaking the telly or completley ignoring her or standing her up or lying to her on the excuse that it must be because Zoo expected too much love or spoke out of turn.

When did I begin to believe that I deserved to be abused? Do I enjoy being treated like that? No, or maybe... If I didn't why would I stick around for more? Don't I really believe that I deserve better? Sure, I am not perfect. But I can't seriously believe that my mistakes really call for such harsh and prolonged punishment? Can I?

And more importantly, how to break out of this cycle?

Out of the Mouth of Beanz

Comes the post-Kooky quote of the night: What type of person can't even commit to a casual relationship? Now, when you put it like that- indeed, Beanzabubba, indeed.

Mz Beanz is also responsible for passing along the most perfect tribute to anal sex
anal sex I have ever encountered. Aside from a stunningly sublime filmclip- think wine bottle of lube, a menu of sexual positions, a chorus of Dionysian-style nymphs with nipple tassles and strap-ons, a drag queen, and a young couple in love who must ask the immortal question, Do You Take It In The Ass? - this 60s pop homage contains much advice as to the required equipment and technique:

'You would do if you love me
If you're nervous squat above me
You'll be able to control the depth and speed...'

WATCH IT NOW. You'll be singing it and squirming along all day, promise.

(Pic is of Beanzle and moi before Kooky last night. Red wine has much to answer for!)

Time to Reivent the Wheel

If you always do
What you've always done
You'll always get
What you've always got

Homosexual Animals

"With documentation of gay or lesbian behaviour among giraffes, penguins, parrots, beetles, whales and dozens of other creatures, the Oslo Natural History Museum concludes human homosexuality cannot be viewed as 'unnatural'.

"'We may have opinions on a lot of things, but one thing is clear - homosexuality is found throughout the animal kingdom, it is not against nature,' an exhibit statement said."

Full article at News.com.au.

Real Live Lactating Girls

Just spent a fun ten minutes squirting milk all over the window of the sunroom with The Yummy Mummy. Post pic later :)

Back to Basics

Mate. Lover. Fuckbuddy. Mistress. Husband. Wife. Best Friend. Worst Friend. Play Partner. Significant Other. Travelling Companion. Girlfriend. Boyfriend. Primary Partner. Secondary Partner. Daddy. Girl. Boy. Master. Mistress. Slave.Top. Bottom.

Figure it is time to start right back at the beginning with this 'relationship' stuff if I really want to work out what I want. So to start with the language, with definitions (so often the source of confusion)... What is a 'Relationship'?

Dictonary.com tells us

–noun

1.	a connection, association, or involvement.

2.	connection between persons by blood or marriage.

3.	an emotional or other connection between people: the relationship between teachers and students.

4.	a sexual involvement; affair.

—Synonyms 1. dependence, alliance, kinship. 2. affinity, consanguinity.

I was once in a situation which I believed to clearly be a 'relationship' yet the other person claimed it was anything but. Hanging out together all the time, sharing jokes, road-tripping, planning holiday adventures, planning to move away to the country (as housemates, not 'shacking up'), shagging, shagging about with others, sharing dreams and roadside macadamias and all of that. It was quirky, it was fun, we laughed a lot and I thought we both were happy with our 'Mates Who Fuck' status. But my Other considered me Insignificant it seems, and couldn't consider it a 'relationship', as we didn't do the bf/gf thing (do Mates not count as relationships? What about Lovers?). I thought we had moved beyond that, to some new and exciting space, not that what we had was not a relationship, but that it was a different and more fluid form of relationship. But this person did not agree. Which meant that, to this other person, whatever it was that we had held lesser value and could be more easily dismissed that if we had been doing the bf/gf routine. Huh? From what I can surmise,in this logic, if we had run it along traditional lines, then I would have a right to feel abandoned when the whole thing was suddenly called off, whereas now I am expected to not care because IT WAS NOT A RELATIONSHIP. No right to miss anything, not the company or the in-jokes or walking the dogs or just lying in the sunshine together, not the chatting, not the fucking- it was nothing, meant nothing, nothing to regret losing... This cannot make any sense to me. I am not supposed to miss a good friend who no longer wants to see me? Not to be hurt at being cut out of the life of someone I love? How? And more than how, Why? Why shouldn't I be grieving about losing a connection to someone that I valued so deeply?

Is it only a relationship if you call it one? Is is simply a question of naming? Does it have to conform to some set of Relationship Rules in order to qualify? Do you need Official Relationship Titles? You be the Boyfriend, I be the Girlfriend. You be the Wife, or the Mistress, and I'll be the Husband or your Sleazy Old Boss. How do you create anything new? Can you?

Hmmm... I'm tired of thinking about this, discussing this, but somehow I still have to. It still doesn't make sense to me. And it still HURTS. Losing love is losing love, no matter how you name it.

QueerCentral Update

Heard from all and sundry (well, one housemate, one play partner and a cute boi) that the first QueerCentral was indeed a queer and fabulous night! Think maybe I'll put on my party pants and boogie shoes and brave it next week...

Life on the Cusp

My birthday is 2oth Jan, so it varies what star sign I get filed under. Nthn Hem seems to be Aq, Sthn Hem Cap. Think I'm a fairly even mix of the two:

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): My Hollywood spies tell me that one of the new products placed in the gift bags for the celebrities at the Emmy Awards show was Oxyfresh's Pet Oral Hygiene Solution, a breath-freshening spray for dogs, cats, monkeys, and other beloved animals. It would be a good week, astrologically speaking, for you to obtain this product for the creatures in your life. More than that, though, it will also be a favorable time for you to scout out promotional opportunities for your own unique product or talent. How can you get your specialty into the hands of ripe prospects who don't know about it yet?

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): King Ludwig II of Bavaria (1845-1886) was deposed after being designated as insane by a team of psychiatrists. Among the evidence they cited as proof that Ludwig was crazy were his blueprints for a flying vehicle that would resemble a peacock. In recent months, however, a German engineer named Dalibor Karacic has examined Mad King Ludwig's plans and declared that they are feasible. The steam-powered peacock would have indeed been capable of flight. Ludwig, says Karacic, was ahead of his time. Take heart from this correction, Aquarius. If you relentlessly nurture your faith in your frontier ideas--notions that others might call fairy tales--you will ultimately be vindicated.

From Free Will Astrology.

Festival

"Suffering is not holding you. You are holding suffering. When you become good at the art of letting sufferings go, then you'll come to realize how unnecessary it was for you to drag those burdens around with you. You'll see that no one else other than you was responsible. The truth is that existence wants your life to become a festival."

-Osho

What A Girl Wants

Well, what this little FaggotFraggle wants anyway. Was thinking that its very hard to conjure up what you want if you don't know what you want- so am starting to look at what exactly it is I desire. Like Santa Claus, the Universe sometimes needs a bit of a hint as to what you would like it to deliver. So, here is my embryonic Wish List. Some of this sounds rather naff when I put it down in words, but hey, I'm a sentimental young fool, what to do? Here goes:

I want a relationship that will own up to being a relationship.
I want someone to care for and be cared for by.
Someone who looks forward to seeing me. And vice versa.
Flowers, sometimes. Or a choke chain.
Someone to go road-tripping with.
Someone to build Shaggle Rock with.
Someone I can learn from as well as teach.
Someone I can laugh with.
Someone who will inspire me to step outside my comfort zone (if you can't walk to the edge, why walk at all?).
Someone who will go out of their comfort zone to watch me take a spear or hang from hooks.
Someone who will hold me when I cry, and accept my comfort.
Someone to suckle.

It is a pity that at the moment I have so busy moping over what I have lost that I have been unable to fully appreciate the brilliance of my current companions and encounters. So many good people and good times! For example:

* Spent all last night drinking and chatting at The Newtown (my new stomping ground) with Beculum, one of my favourite and sexiest t-boys and a rather intriguing woman who was full of communication theories (most useful to thinking about my thesis). Then went back to B's and fisted each other's bits to pieces. More than once.

* Heading to Orange this weekend with Hunter and Darkling.

* Now have a black hanky again ;)

* And really ought to buy a red one too!

* My boots get a lot of polishing.

* I'm halfway to saving what I think I will need for a car.

* I'm still moving to Lismore mid-2007.

* And much much more. Now, just to throw myself into it again.

QueerCentral

New Wednesday night program at The Sly Fox from tomorrow night. From the QueerCentral myspace profile

Concept: an attitude free, creative night for queers of all kinds be they dyke, poof, gender queer, asexual or pansexual. A place for shows of a different kind.. burlesque, vaudeville, the occasional drag. Tell us your ideas. Hosted by Sex Intents with DJs Sveta and Dave Newman

Who I'd like to meet: Queer artists and performers.

Unfortunately I have other commitments so shan't be down there for a wee while, but I do recommend that if you find yourself at a loose end you get your little queer buttocks down there and support the night. And if you are interested in performing please contact them through the myspace page.Heaven knows, its a straight old world, and we need all the queer spaces we can get.

Boy Girl Wonder

Ah, I waffle so much that sometimes I can't remember what I have put up here and what I haven't. But this is what I am singing again, and its worth repeating:

why is it so lonely
in between boy and a girl
they're so glued down
in this world
and what is means

i'm trans alla that
gender i'm a bender
bye bi girl

in the parking lot
where we kissed good night
and you squeezed my hand
a little extra tight
well i knew right then
that you felt the same
if you'd just get out
of that boy girl game

- Bitch and Animal 'Boy Girl Wonder'

Lots of B&A lyrics here.

Blessings In Disguise

It is time to stop counting what I lost and start counting what I gained from the experiences I shared with The Lost Boy. In some cases this is the same thing. One of the greatest things he did was destabilise my identity, give me a start-point and space in which to challenge so many of my 'truths'- my femmeness, my femaleness, the sneaking suspicion that really underneath it all I was a straight chick, my fear of my more 'masculine traits'.

Sonya Bolus, in Loving Outside Simple Lines (GenderQueer, ed Nestle at al), writes of her feelings when her butch partner decides to transition:

My greatest fear is how this might affect my own sense of self. "Just don't ask me to be straight," I tell you. "It took me too much pain and time and struggle to come out queer, lesbian, and femme-proud. I can't go back." But you never step on or dictate my identity, and for this I am grateful beyond words.

Instead you inspire me to look with courage at my self-definitions. I see how true they are to me. I also see how sometimes they limit me. Though they have often given me security and a means to self-awareness, I notice parts of myself I have supressed: the attraction I one felt for men, the desire I know feel for other femmes, the need to examine my own "othergenderness"...

Later I ask if I can kiss your breasts goodbye. You grant me this, though I know what an effort it is. But I have to ask for this; I'll never have another chance. I kiss your nipples as tenderely as if they were made of snow. I let my tears fall on your soft skin. I know I will always remember how your nipples quietly harden, even under such a gentle touch.

This explains much of what he has given me. I question my body again, look in new ways at my milky breasts and my girly curves and my pierced labia, discover new potentials and possibilities. And I am grateful for all of this.

Fur

One thing I noticed at Gurlesque recently was that every single snatch I saw was in possession of some sort of hair-do. Clippered, shaved off entirely, waxed into funny shapes... am I the only one who doesn't mind my short'n'curlies being long'n'curly?

Maybe I am lazy, maybe I am just reacting to two years of being with someone who was obssessed with furlessness, maybe its my inner bear speaking, maybe its just the fact that my piercings are more protected when I am furry, maybe its an attempt to hide my pink bits, maybe I just want to be feel all wild when I am doing the wild thing? Whatever it is, I find it so much more COMFORTABLE, and SEXY, to keep my bush bushy. Heehee! Does this make me a BushPig?

(Naturally enough, this brings to mind the Betty Davis 'run your fingers through my bushy hair' quote.True, she might have been referring to her Afro, but which one?)

PS To whoever sent that Anonymous quote re wanting 'to cultivate and evolve and unwrap the love and the knowing of people over a lifetime, not bleed relationships dry and then throw them away'- thankyou!

PPS Though I still woke up in tears this morning, I think the crisis may have passed a little. Which is no doubt a relief for all of you! I can't promise to give up the questioning and pondering though- just hopefully shift focus a little from one point of failure/disappointment/rejection to a whole world of new possibilities.

Tingle and Squirt

i'm being a bit better with the pumping, and trying to manage to fit in three pumps a day (even if sometimes they are quite short sessions). not necessarily getting much more milk, but have noticed that my breasts are feeling much fuller and tingle quite a bit inbetween pumps.

also, and it has only been twice so far, i have been able to squirt milk from my right breast (the more exhibitionist one). as in, spray it right across the room! both times have been after pumping, and managed to do it about 3 or 4 times. looks rather spectacular i must say!

which reminds me of an art piece i saw years ago at the Australian Centre for Photography. the exhibition was concerned with pornography, and there was a collection of clothing and bags that (and my memory is a little hazy here) were made from some sort of silk and had these abstact pattterns all over them. i wondered what they were doing a porn exhibition until i read the explanation beside the display. in fact, the patterns were derived from female ejaculation, the process being to catch the 'cum shot' on a piece of paper, put it through some sort of chemical process to get a print of it and then somehow transfer this to the fabric... thinking of doing something similar with the milk-sprays... hmmm... so many ideas! must stop being all heartbroken and disillusioned and start working on other things that matter to me, more art and shows and maybe even write the paper I have to give this coming Friday...

Stray thoughts on non-monogamy

Is it harder to share yourself with more than one person or to share your partner with others?

If so, is it a question of economies? More partners equals more upkeep, whereas if your partner has others its less work for you...

TranZnation Survey

Click here to participate in the TranZnation survey. Here is the general gist, with more info on the site:

'This survey aims to examine the health and wellbeing of individuals in the trans communities. It is being carried out by the Australian Research Centre in Sex, Health and Society (ARCSHS) at La Trobe University and Gay and Lesbian Health Victoria which is part of ARCSHS...

Why complete the survey?

This survey is aimed to provide information about the health and wellbeing of people who are transgender, transsexual or of transsexual background. It will provide information about concerns and key issues they have regarding their utilization of health services and about their general wellbeing.

How will my survey information be used?

The research that will be generated by the TranZnation survey will benefit people who are transgender, transsexual or of transsexual background by capturing a clearer understanding of the way health service provision affects individuals. It will also help guide the implementation of services that are more relevant and appropriate to transgender people. Your input, therefore, has the potential to influence the scope of what the health sector has to offer the trans communities and to modify the way health professionals interact with individuals within those communities.'

Please complete this if you can, and/or pass it on to relevant persons and networks. Most of you will be familiar with the lack of understanding and empathy for trans issues (indeed, LGBTQ issues in general) amongst many in the healthcare profession community. And remember, if you are not part of the solution you are part of the problem- so get answering!

Packing, Pissing and Passing

Just about to buy a new packer, and my thoughts have turned to boy bits and bobs:

This is a very nice Cotton Concealer Compression Muscle Shirt.
Here are some useful tips on binding, packing and passing. Not sure about fashion advice (appears to be a trend towards brown leather belts and shoes) but some quite handy hints and links. Indeed, its how I found the TravelMate, a 'non-invasive urinary device' which lets girls pee through the 'fly of their clothing' while standing up. Now I just need to get more tutus with flys. Still think I might order a few... good for roadtrips, and nightclubs.

But wait! Have just found the Mango (as in Man-Go), a combination of packer and pisser! Wow...

Also worth a look is the FTM passing tips site. This led me to the brilliant Buzztown Barber Shop- which provides pix and a glossary of all manner of crew cuts, bowl cuts, flat tops and all manner of 'boy' haircuts. Delicious! (And while on the subject of hair, this site of baby wigs is almost enough incentive to breed. But only for the pink one).

Finally, here's a pic of me and a Bavarian buddy at Beyond in Melbourne last month (before it all got messy- still got my lippie on). You need to go to 'regular events', then 'Beyond' 23rd Sept 06 and there I am...

Pretty When You Cry

beanz just sent me these lyrics. haven't heard the song yet, but they hit home...

you're made of my rib or baby
you're made of my sin
and i can tell where your lust ends and where your love begins
i didn't want to hurt you baby
i didn't want to hurt you
i didn't want to hurt you but you're pretty when you cry
and the moon gives me permission and i enter through her eyes
she's losing her virginity and all her will to compromise
i didn't want to hurt you baby
i didn't want to hurt you
i didn't want to hurt you but you're pretty when you cry
i didn't want to fuck you baby
i didn't want to fuck you
i didn't want to fuck you but you're pretty when you're mine
i didn't really love you baby
i didn't really love you
i didn't really love you but i'm pretty when i lie
you hurt me baby
i hurt you baby
if you knew how much i love you, you would run away
but when i treat you bad it always makes you want to stay
i didn't want to hurt you baby
i didn't want to hurt you baby
how can you do this to me now?

- Vast 'Pretty When You Cry'

Pros and Cons

She's innappropriate
But then she's much more fun

-Lloyd Cole
'Perfect Skin'

Cut Down To Size

Passionate. Intense. Creative. Emotional. Energetic. Verbose. Romantic. Challenging. Honest. Eccentric. Queer. Kinky. Inquisitive. Fluid. Innappropriate. Intelligent. Trusting. Generous. Sexual. Imaginative.

I'm not the safe option. I ask tricky questions, don't pull punches, take promises at face value. I know that all of this scares people away.

And so I find myself forever censoring myself, trimming bits to become some sort of acceptable model that is less threatening to the status quo. Pretending, or attempting, or hoping, to somehow not to be so odd and big and unsettling. Some days I (almost) wish that I could just be that straight girl, you know, the pretty one who isn't going to call anyone's identity into question, who isn't going to run about being a lactating faggot and packing under her tutu, who will stand by her man as the perfect reassurance and confirmation of his masculinity. Who doesn't disrupt the equilibrium or make anyone think twice. I feel like such a mutant and hybrid monster, always wanting odd combinations of menu items instead of taking the set banquet:

I want the boy, but don't want to be the girl
I don't want to be a girl, but don't want to be a boy
I want the house together, but don't want to 'shack up'
I want my PhD, but don't want to be an academic
I want to have a baby, but don't want the nuclear family
I want a committed relationship, but don't want to be 'married'
And on it goes.

Is it really THAT odd though? I really believed that this time it might work. Thought what I had to offer was of value, and fitted in with what was wanted. But again, it seems I am more than is required... or maybe less?

Repeat

i have posted these lyrics before, but find myself singing them yet again:

take me through
the pot-luck romance
drug me up on cardboard wine
come undress 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'

it is a painful thing indeed to miss but not be missed.

L'Erotica

This just came through from DV8House. There appears to be a rumour that a certain Zoo might be making an appearance on stage, or thereabouts...

On sale from 25 October at mosthtix & SAX Fetish for $60 + booking fee (No Concessions)

L'Erotica

being staged at

The Forum - The Entertainment Quater, Moore Park

(formally known as Stage 11 at Fox Studios)

DV8House - Sydney Presents L`Erotica This night promises the most twisted and perverse performances on a scale that Sydney has never seen before. Be prepared to be inspired by Midori doing what she does best right there on stage. Throughout the night you will be treated to the warped and the depraved, featured international artists include: Satomi, Lukas Zpira, Zamil & maliz of Berlin, Bridgett Harrington of the USA, and Mark of DV8House - Sydney with his flygirl and other assorted twisted puppies.In charge of the decks for the night are the amazing Sveta and Mandy Rollins of Sydney who are charged for their performances these Grrrls will tag with Melbourne's very own Scott Anderson to bring you the type of beats you need to get down and dirty. It might be a long time before you see anything like this again. Fetish, Gothic, Industria this is a night not to be missed! More info at myspace.

---

3 Wise Whores

Well, here's my first Christmas invitation for the season. And you are all invited too! Whoretic writes...

Debby Doesn't Do It For Free Presents: the Ho Ho Ho Christmas Variety Show (we promise there will be at least 3 hos on stage). With Special guests Kitty Minge and Sex and Glita Sunday December 10th at the Imperial Hotel doors open at 6, show starts at 7pm.

If these be the same three hos I think they may be then I can think of little better to find in one's Xmas stockings :)

Also, Debbies have a new website. Is very pretty, with star profiles and show dates and all manner of useful information and fun stuff.

White Tears

There is a Sydney-based dyke sex mag called SLIT. At the moment they are seeking contributions for their 'T' issue. I am considering doing a photo along the lines of 'My breasts are eyes, crying milky tears'... maybe false eyelashes on my nipples? Black and white, just tits and torso, cry me a river across milky white stomach.

The connections and correlations of breasts as eyes, the heart and the breast as sites of affect and emotion, baring one's breasts in mourning, the way my lacto consultant advised me to drink my own milk to heal my broken heart, the fact that one might eject milk or burst into tears at the point of orgasm...

Role Play

Wife.
Mistress.
Woman Scorned.
Mater.
Martyr.

How is it that I consciously reject these scripted parts but find myself so easly drawn into playing them out?

Speaking of games people play, I just did a survey on same-sex relationship 'abuse' for a PhD candidate from Mac Uni- and remembered just what it was like to play Cowering Partner. It was a somewhat intense experience answering those questions, in that it made me face up again to just how emotionally and physically abusive that relationship was. Ouch. I sometimes tend to gloss over all the bruises and broken furniture when I recall how it was, can't quite recall why or how I was forever walking on eggshells and jumping at shadows. All the same, no matter how yucky and scary it was to deal with it again, I feel that this type of research is incredibly important in terms of supporting claims for services etc. Please participate if you have ever been in a same-sex relationship.

I have also been considering my history of finding myself in 'relationships' where it is expected that I will do more than my fair share of the emotional labour, that I will fulfil some 'emotional' Girl/Femme role while the other person does the 'rational' Boy/Butch role. I have emotions, true, and as a rule own them and admit them and try to deal with them instead of pretending they don't exist. But I can't be expected, or expect myself, to take on all the emotional work for two (or more) people. I resent being forced into situations where every intimacy that may make anyone feel vulnerable is somehow my fault as EmoGirl, every time anyone has to face an emotional demon (or even an angel) EmoGirl is the one who somehow summoned it. What power! What responsibility! EmoGirl, Chief Conjurer of Affective and Emotional States, Without Whom All Beings and Situations Would Remain Rational. (As an aside, who decided that rational and emotional were mutually exclusive? And that emotions hold lesser value? A male philosopher, perchance?)

Bugger it all. There are moths and there are flames. And I am NOT being the moth ;)

Its a pattern I keep repeating, and it has to stop now.

Random Pig Quote

One should never try to teach a pig to sing. It will only frustrate you and annoy the pig.

Bloody Knuckles

Did have a big rant on emotional labour, monogamy, and being dumped for another woman posted here but pulled it in favour of putting up some nice pix of me earning my black hanky (yet again). Have cried every day for the last three weeks about what happened with me and The Lost Boy, and last night was so horrible and painfully embarrassing that I really can't write about it anymore. Knuckledusters, a razor, Hunter and his Darkling, and a lot of punching and kicking much more pleasant to dwell on. Has been a long time coming, and didn't cry nearly as much as I imagined I would. Still pretty cathartic though, not to mention rather erotic, and reckon I will be feeling the after effects for quite a few days to come...

Mods, Bods and Performing Zoo

This little creature on the right is the Monster of Ravenna. Think it will be my next tattoo, going up my spine.

And investigating more unusual bodmod stuff. Check out the beautiful 'biomechanical jewelery' and implant work by Jesse Jarrell. And when you have finished ooohing and aaahing, have a look at the Psymbiote Project.

Am also looking for inspiration/designs for a facial cutting. My favourite cutter, Lukas Zpira, will be out here in November and I want to get a nice piece done. Not too flowery, more biotech/circuitry inspired. Probably do the right side of my face, from my forehead (just above the middle of my eyebrow) going around and down to above level with the top of my ear. Following the contours of my face. Does that make sense? Any ideas?

Speaking of Lukas, he and his luscious wife Satomi will be performing at L'Erotica at Stage 11 on November 25th. Midori will be performing too, and also Bridgett Harrington. And Zoo, though can't tell you who with or what I am doing. Secret!

And while on the subject of performing:
Thursday 26th October at Lan Franchis. Event starts at 8pm, with my spoken word 'milk piece' at around 8:45pm. From what I know it is a women's night of performance and music and such, with discussion led by Norrie and my mate Jenz.

Also, should be doing a show with the US band The Genitorturers on the 11th of November in Sydney, and possibly the 18th in Melbourne too.

Then of course, December brings a Hellfire installation for me and the PolyMorph Boys.

Wouldn't mind working on a few more little shows. Have offered to do some at Sly (solo, and with Whoretic), so will just wait and see if they call me. Maybe Kooky? The Newtown?

And on a totally random note, Ingi just sent me this delightful Pterodactyl Porn to cheer me up. It worked :)

A Woman Scorned

When I stole a twig from our little nest
And gave it to a bird with nothing in her beak,
I had my balls and my brains put into a vice
And twisted around for a whole fucking week.
Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd you let that trash
Get a hold of your cock, get stoned on my hash ?

Whyd ya do it she said, whyd you let her suck your cock ?
Oh, do me a favour, dont put me in the dark.
Whyd ya do it, she said, theyre mine all your jewels,
You just tied me to the mast of the ship of fools.

Whyd ya do it, she said, when you know it makes me sore,
cause she had cobwebs up her fanny and I believe in giving to the poor.
Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd you spit on my snatch ?
Are we out of love now, is this just a bad patch ?

Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd you do what you did ?
You drove my ego to a really bad skid.

Whyd you do it, she said, aint nothing to laugh,
You just tore all our kisses right in half!

Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd ya do what you did,
Betray my little oyster for such a low bitch.

Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd you do what you did ?
You drove my ego to a really bad skid.

Whyd ya do it, she screamed, after all weve said
Every time I see your dick I see her cunt in my bed.

The whole room was swirling,
Her lips were still curling.

Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd you do what you did
Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd you do what you did
Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd ya do it, she said,
Whyd you do what you did ?

Oh, big grey mother, I love you forever
With your barbed wire pussy and your good and bad weather.
Whyd ya do it, she said, whyd you do what you did ...

Ah, I feel better now.

- Marianne Faithfull
'Whyd Ya Do It'

What would I do without The Smiths?

Last night I dreamt
That somebody loved me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm

Last night I felt
Real arms around me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm

So, tell me how long
Before the last one ?
And tell me how long
Before the right one ?

The story is old - I know
But it goes on
The story is old - I know
But it goes on

- The Smiths
'Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me'

Wo! Magazine

Something to fill in some time while you are procrastinating from work or study... new-ish Sydney-based online mag dealing with mostly a gender/feminist slant.

Indonesia's Anti Porn Bill. Play Kool. Pole Dancing. Bi chicks. Silent Meditation.Feminist Porn. PFLAG. Reviews. Wild Rice and Black Bean Salad. All this and more to be found at Wo! Magazine's 3rd issue.

Previous volumes explore stencilling t-shirts, a Kenyan village run by women, barefoot bowling, female soccer players, PNG's AIDS epidemic, neo-burlesque... and the first two issues can be downloaded as PDFs so you can make your own hard copies. Nice little distraction from my chores this arvo :)

Hey Little Girl, wanna sniff my Nursing Pad?

Before you answer that, please consider the following..

Research by the University of Chicago was quoted in a 2002 New Scientist article, 'Go for it, baby' by Alison Motluk, which states that 'smells associated with breastfeeding increased sexual intimacy in childless women volunteers'. Whilst the women did not actually report increased sexual activity, it seems that the study participants who sniffed absorbant pads that had been placed in the bras and under the arms of breastfeeding women 'did report significantly heightened and more enduring sexual desire and fantasies'.

In the same article, Richard Brown of Dalhousie Uni points out that higher than normal progesterone levels are found in breastfeeding women:

"'Maybe the high progesterone acts like an androgen' he speculates. 'Maybe it's the weirdest of possible things and they're producing male-like odours'".

The other day someone made a comment about me smelling like a boy, but I figured it was just that the fenugreek* made my scent a lot stronger than usual and this was confusing to whoever it was (after all, boys are as rule much stinkier creatures than girls). Maybe there is a sideline business in this? I can compete with those little pheromone-impregnated towelettes that come from pub toilet vending machines... surely the Japanese will go for it, if nobody else!

And just as an amusing aside, someone on one of the adult nursing lists was asking about cream to help heal or prevent cracked nipples. Another member replied by suggesting Bag Balm, a beautifully named product originally designed for cows' udders. Apparently it can be bought in some US drug stores as well as feed stores etc. If anyone finds any out here please let me know. My nipples are fine, thankyou very much, but I do so want to own a tincture called Bag Balm :)

* Mistress O'Mayhem does assure me that Eue de Fenugreek doth suit me, unlike some other folk on which it can appeareth acrid. It has also been suggested that I should be served with icecream and pancakes as it makes me smell all mapley syrupy.

Long Weekend Shenanigans

Friday night went to Newtown for a quick beer and then on to Kooky. Beautiful people, beautiful music, everything shiny and pretty but too tired to get into it for more than a few hours- then I crashed around 3am and just had to crawl home in a cab.

Saturday arvo wandered vaguely around Enmore, watched some of the AFL grand final at the pub, and downsized the bars on my spikes before heading off to MasterSuze's birthday BBQ. Got there first so got to be barbie-bitch (see left). Mmmm! Something so satisfying about wielding the tongs and poking the snags! Flitted about, drank some beer, ate some vegie sausages and cake and waved a sparkler about. H had bought his boot kit so had a rather nice polish on the back steps, so to speak, before heading off to the Yummy Mummy's birthday drinkies a few blocks away. Sleepy, so just chatted for a bit, played with the Suckling One, had one schooner and jumped into yet another cab. Rather nice to be home and in bed by 11 on 'Sleaze night'.

Sunday headed to Ashfield with Beanz, then over to Whoretics to play dress-ups before Gurlesque and Bad Dog. BD's theme this time around was Pee Emm... hmmm... Pee Emm... it was either going to be going as Little Johnny (ick), a Wet Dream, Pre-Menstrual, a Piss Pig or Cath Eter, leader of the Piss De Resistance (my long-planned all-grrl guerilla group reclaiming public space through pissing on it). Was thinking the latter- yellow singlet and 'pee-stained' shorts, name-badge and... hmm... would a Piss Pig have a little yellow snout and matching curly tail? Alternatively, decided I could just froufrou up as one does in the PM (and often the AM in my case)...

Ah, well, sometimes I just get lazy when it comes to costumes! In the end went with the easy multi-purpose outfit option for Gurlesque and Bad Dog- red shiny boxers and a long red dress with holes cut out all over it and lots of silver sequins. Red stars and silver glitter on my face, red lippie. Had never worn that dress out before, and it certainly works, with everyone from the lovely ladies at the Impy to piles of sweaty boys at Marrickville Bowlo.

For Gurlesque cage-dance wore furry black legwarmer thingies with silver stripes and buckles, black rubber knickers (both borrowed from Whoretic) and Sire. Was scared about dancing, especially when the cages turned out to not be downstairs in a dark corner but right on the stage. In the end it was much easier than I imagined, and I got my share of attention and pussy pounds (amongst other favours, thankyou Whoretic and Hunter) while the Buxom Wench out-shimmied and out-wiggled me in the next cage. Delicious!

BD was brilliant. Couldn't fault it in the least- the crowd, the DJs, the quirky venue, and an amazing assortment of friends all shimmery and scrumptious and sweaty (only one person I who wasn't there that I really wish had made it)... Decided against taking any sparkly stuff, instead dancing my boots off 'til 6 on nowt but adrenalin, Red Bull and beer. Finally hobbled back to Beculum's for more beer and flopping about in the sunshine, then sleep and snuggles and sleep and some surreally sublime shagging and more sleep. Pizza and dozing on the lounge with the Sunday papers. Sweet day all around.

Think I might be getting sick though, ears and throat getting sore and glands in my neck up. Dang! Vitamins, ibuprofen, lots of water, lay off the alcohol for a while. Mocktails for me!