Processing
My heart is but a Selaginella Lepidophylla…
When I was in 6th grade, I went to the Museum of Natural History on one of many, many field trips. But this time, I bought something cool. It was called a Resurrection Plant. They are also known as The Rose of Jericho. It was a weird, brown ball and on the card stapled to the top of…
Read MoreBetter? Or worse?
I’m on the morning of the last of my performances of the revival of 69Stories. Interestingly, this revival is a format somewhat different than previous iterations. More interactive. More real-time. Riskier-feeling for me, but it seems to work well. The riskiness I experience is this: when I tell the stories, a part of me is…
Read MoreIMsL2010: Monthly Wrap-Up.
It has been a month since the International Ms Leather contest. One month ago today, I was in a dazed haze, worrying about the opening number, freaking out about the interview, praying I wouldn’t completely melt down before the weekend was over. Thanks to Glenda, tomo, Ms. Rhonda and Levi for pulling together a stellar…
Read MoreAt 35000 feet.
I am learning to write in mid-air. I used to never be interested in doing so. I think it is good to have this desire blossoming. I have many flights in my future, and don’t foresee that slowing down any time soon. So…we write. I’m in first class tonight. And this is awesome. I took…
Read More“Dear James…” a letter to someone who Was.
Dear Jim… It is HIGHLY unlikely you’ll ever read this, I’m writing it anyway. Who the fuck am I kidding. Honestly? Frankly? The “You†to whom I’m writing only lives in my heart and mind. The “You†you are today is years and miles away from the man who upended my life, careened me into…
Read MoreThe more I change the more I stay the same.
So often one wonders how they wind up who they are. At least I do. I will be in a moment, living, thinking, doing whatever it is I’m doing and then part of my consciousness will pull back for a moment and say to the rest of my consciousness “Whoah. Really? Is this really happening?…
Read More“Vanilla” Bigotry.
I love perverted sex. In fact, some of the perverted sex I love the most is considered too fucked up for public consumption by other kinky people. I love kinky people. The community, warts and all, is a home for me. Â And like any extended weird family, we have our disagreements. I know for a…
Read More“Play” vs. Play.
I have a demo coming up this weekend for the Madtown Kinkfest. I really love the folks there, and I’m looking forward to it. I have a somewhat unique situation in that, because of popular demand, (believe me, it sounds even weirder to me than it does to you) I’m tracked on my own session…
Read MoreShoutbacks & Shoutouts & Cupcakes.
I’m always a little “!!!?!?!?!?” when people mention, quote or talk about me in their writings. But it makes all the gut-wrenching puling moaning and late night Waaaaaaaaaambulance calls worth it, if someone else can share in it with me. My entree to sex was awesome: I was 15, he was 18, we fucked all…
Read MoreHalf Full.
I need approval. Someone patting me on the head and giving me that “Good Girl.†Can melt away the thickest glacier of self-loathing and dissolve the greasiest oil-slick of self-imposed reflexive hatred. I clearly recall, with fondness, having resentment, anger, self-pity, even rage, wiped away by my dominant telling me how good job I was…
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