Monday, November 24, 2008

Glamour and Sex

Waiting for another new home health aide to appear to help with Mom overnight, so I can get some sleep. Well, I never sleep the first night someone is here, in case they need some help learning the ropes or Mom freaks out because there is a stranger in the house. So tonight and tomorrow will be a training day. Kinda like that movie with Denzel and one of those young kid guys that all the girls gush about, where Denzel is the corrupt cop training the idealist young cop to come into his web of corruption. Only my web involves Depends, thickened liquids, pee pads in the bed, bed alarms, a baby monitor, and a wheelchair.

My older sister schedules the home health aides to come in, and sometimes she forgets to give me all the details. I started to think she has some kind of brain injury or brain disorder because she is still relatively young to be as scattered as she is. Her son thought so too, so he gave her a mental status test (he is in medical school) and was shocked to find out that she has all her full faculties. I guess my nephew and I think alike and so there are at least two idiots in the family. I am not saying which two, but you can guess.

Quite a change from gay porn, eh? Well, who said my life was all glamour and sex.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Mr Limpy

Okay, back to gay porn. I watched a fascinating vid of a bunch of Brit "footballers" sucking and fucking each other. What was interesting to me was how difficult it was for some of the guys to get really hard. Mr L, shall we call him, after an intense bout of having his otherwise very pretty and nicely shaped dick thoroughly licked and swallowed and then using it to force fuck Mr X's throat sideways (to get in deep) down to the bottom of his shaft, he still was kind of limpy. Kind of sad, actually.

A different guy took over and sucked Mr Limpy with great enthusiasm, and another guy rimmed his asshole, but still, Mr Limpy. I wonder if he just wasn't that into it. But he was clearly very popular with the mens, perhaps because he had the prettiest dick. Finally another guy, Mr H, with a really hard dick that practically stood up to his belly, turned him over and fucked him in the ass. Mr Limpy's dick was still semi-hard but still mostly limpy. Mr H pulled out and turned him over and dribbled his cum on Mr still Limpy's pretty mouth and upturned face.

So, straight guys wonder why femme lesbians like to be fucked by butch lesbians? or by other femmes? One reason, lesbians never fuck you with a limpy dick, except on purpose. And depending on mood, any thickness or length of beautiful hard cock is available, and a girl can get fucked until she comes. And the whole cum thing? Shooting out of a bio dick? Not really that exciting. Mostly over-hyped dribble.

Is this too harsh? Sorry. Luckily there are gobs and gobs of straight girls and gay guys who love bio dick. Isn't the world a wonderful place?

Saturday, November 22, 2008

A Temporary and Transient Crush

I have a temporary and transient crush on the French Finance Minister, Christine Lagarde. I saw an interview with her on PBS and she is beautiful. I also love the turnabout that has the French advising Americans on the future of capitalism. I think the intersection of this irony and the fact that Mme Lagarde looks hot in a boyish white shirt and suit jacket has given rise to this temporary and transient crush. Irony plus hotness will last just long enough before I remember that she is part of the conservative Sarkozy government and I am a devout pinko.

Okay, but she is beautiful and unmistakably sexy. I have no idea if she is queer but who cares, it's my fantasy, not hers. Plus she is French, and well, that has to count for something (subtract for conservative Sarkozy government). I love that she has left her hair in its natural salt & pepper state, since I have been grey since the age of 14, and I refuse to color my hair. Mme Lagarde is very self-assured, clearly smart, has a sense of humor, and she moves beautifully. I looked her up in Wiki and found that she is, oddly, a champion synchronized swimmer, perhaps why she moves so well and comfortably in her own body.

I admit I am easily crushed out on beautiful, powerful, smart, confident women. And yes, I did fantasize about how incredibly hot it would be to be endlessly slow and hard fucked by this gorgeous and uber-confident French Finance Minister wearing a sexy strap-on ("Oh yes! Fuck me baby, Please, baby, please fuck me, my French Finance Minister, hmm, O god, harder"), but then that whole Sarkozy conservative government thing managed to intrude into my delicious daydream, and I am back to being on the trailing edge of this temporary and transient crush.

Thursday, November 20, 2008


I comment regularly on a political blog under a male identity. I didn't plan on this, I am just bad at coming up with names and my male cat was sitting on the desk batting at me, and so I used his name. He is a lovely boy, btw, and I adore him. But here I am, stuck with a decidedly male identity, so I just decided to stick with it.

I keep all the relevant facts of my life experience intact when commenting, I just, and others just, assume a male persona. So I am a gay man on that blog. A femme gay man. Whoosh. So I have a bf, not a gf, and okay, I sometimes talk about fabric.

What surprises me is how easy it is to assume a different gender identity, and how much more respect I get from other (assumed) male bloggers as a man. When I write one thing on one blog as a man, I get disagreement but respect. When I write the exact same thing on another blog as a woman, I get some trashing for being "too emotional". Who says sexism is dead?

I sometimes flirt sweetly, as I am sometimes wont to do on political blogs, with other bloggers, as a "gay man". Since these are progressive blogs, most straight men are pretty good natured about it, the gay guys will give it back, and the trolls won't answer. Women (or assumed women, I suppose) are very sweet about it. They like gay men who flirt with women, it's a safe way to flirt. I find all this quite mind-boggling and like a spider in my own web, I wonder how long I can maintain the fiction.

There are a couple of women on the site I frequent most whom I believe suspect that I am a woman, because I will often weigh in on feminist issues, on the side of feminists. Certain progressive blogs still contain a significant number of immature men who think using words like "bitch" or "cunt" prove them daring and cutting edge, rather than expose their limited word base as insipid and trite and sexist. I am often one of the very few male personas who weigh in in support of feminists. It is a weird twist in the anonymous internets, and calls into question assumptions about sex and gender. Perhaps this is why younger people whose childhood and teenage game playing may have included the assumption of an avatar of the opposite sex, have more fluid views on gender and on sexuality.

When I was young, I played games like cowboy where I assumed the identity of a gunslinger. Others assumed that meant I was being tomboyish, but I never actually felt as if I wanted to be a boy gunslinger, just a gunslinger who was a girl. I liked powerful figures, and while most powerful archetypes were male, not all were male.

Coming out as a lesbian, at the time I did, one did a lot of flannel and short haircuts. So I mostly dated girls who looked and dressed just like me. Since I am fairly extroverted and confident and funny (I think) in my regular life, I think there was an assumption by some friends that I fell more on the butch side of the spectrum. It took a little while to figure out that while there is a certain urban street look I like for myself (khakis or black pants, soft black tshirts, black ankle boots), there is a femme variety of this kind of dressing that I prefer in my non-work life. But I also wear sweats and sweatshirts at home, or shorts and tshirts, or when I paint (a house sucks up a lot of paint, and there are always more and more places to paint), crappy painting clothes.

When I work, I wear more typically femme clothing, but butchier femme. I rarely wear a dress or jumper or skirt or skirted suit, though I have them. I tend to wear pants (soft cotton. rayon, tencel or something with drape), a casual top (cotton, rayon, tencel or in the summer linen) and a beautiful, often expensive, scarf. I tend to wear scarves like the women's version of a tie. It dresses up outfits, and makes them more "professional". The clothes are comfortable, and I don't have to think about them, or how I sit, or how I will have to move, and I can focus on the work crisis at hand. I do notice that when I am dressed for work (or wear my work topcoat over my casual clothes) I am treated more deferentially by others.

Anyway, it's interesting how easy it is to influence a response based on malleable conditions. As a person of color, as a woman, as a lesbian, I know there are some things that are (for me) unchanging. And I live with the sometimes oppressive responses of an outside world, but it is an eye-opener for me to see how different my life experience could be if I was not who I am.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Another Day

It's humid and overcast, the day has almost slipped over the last bit of western sky, but it is still light out.

I've been reading lots of political blogs and sex blogs, as of late. I correlate this to the two things that seem to compel me most, right now: the election of Barack Obama and an increase in my libido due to exercise. Both fascinations are tied solely to the internet right now, since Barack has not invited me to join his Cabinet (he may have lost my email address) and I am away from home and from the girlfriend.

I understand men spend an inordinate amount of time on these two internet pursuits, but this duo is relatively new to me.

I have not watched any porn on the internet until recently. While I am a lesbian who enjoys what is dismissively called by some "reproductive heterosex" with girls, I don't find straight porn that interesting. Mostly because the women are, for the most part, completely unattractive to me. They just don't appear to be into it, in a way that resonates for me. And the guys have great looking dicks but no pussies or tits or clits, so it's kind of a let down. Did I mention I am not into guys? I did visit a gay male porn site just to see, and ZOWIE, okay, the guys really do do sex like it's a completely hedonistic animal act. And lucky for them, the other guys are just as into it. I was stunned by anal fisting which I had never actually seen before, and really, if it floats your boat, go for it, it's not a practice, however, that's currently high on my "to do" list.

Anyway, it's been an interesting time-waster. I've posted comments on some of the queer sex blogger sites, and a few of them are quite good writers, especially of queer erotica, mostly of the butch/top variety. Since I have femmed bottom (verb) in the past, I admit I reflexively find butch tops attractive. But I am not good at managing one consistent behavior, so I wasn't a really good femme bottom, because I don't always find lipstick practical, nor do I always agree that I should defer to what I consider impractical or arbitrary rules made by some butch top with a cock. This is why I do not belong to clubs. I make a horrible club person. I do belong to the JC Penney bra & panty club which only requires that you carry a little card and once you have purchased 6 bras (even on sale) you get the 7th for free. Now that's a club I can belong to.

Instead of porn and politics I have been trying to write a ghazal. A form of poetry that I have no history with, but I find interesting because I have no history with it. It's not what I write, but if we can't try something new and difficult every once in a while, well, I guess I would waste more time reading queer porn or watching snips of dyke porn. I actually refuse to pay for the full view, since my prurient interests are way out matched by my penny pinching. Really, if penny pinching was a sexual practice, I would be a cheap whore, really cheap.

Since I am terrible at belonging to groups with rules, (I am not so much rebellious or anti-authority as I am indifferent and easily bored), we'll see how long I keep this blog going. I hope it will be an honest interesection of the things that seem to run my life. We'll see.