Please, Make Yourself Comfortable

.....lay down on the couch

It’s been a long time since I’ve met any women who’ve “done it” for me. And in the small city I live in, the pool of available sane sexy smart les/bi women is more like a wading pool, there’s no deep end and definitely no waterslide. (Bear with me, I’ve been at the pool for the last couple of days!---in more ways than one if ya know what I mean *heehee* *wink wink**) There is one singular gay bar in this godforsaken town, so if you do hook up with a new girl, everyone knows it. Usually, I can’t even frequent a drinking establishment without running into two-three ex gfs. Luckily, most of my exes and I are on good terms.

So, this weekend when I was out, I was shocked to see a multitude of hot girlies running ‘round. Some were more of your garden variety lesbian types (butchy, softball players galore!) with even fewer femmy types lurking about. Now, I would definitely align myself, at least style wise, with the femmies. And yes, I’ve been known to vamp it up with the best of ‘em. For example, Friday night: red mini, red heels, black halter.. ect, ect….

Yet, in attitude I’m far more *masculine* than one might expect.

For example, a table of younger “soft butch” women were congregating by the bar watching me on the dance floor. One of em’ in particular kept giving me the eye. You know, the eye, the smile, the big grin, and the head nod to friend in my direction type of thing. I also sent flirty smiles her way and made it a point to return her gaze several times. Still, at the end of the night, she had not uttered one word to me. Nothing. As the night progressed, it became clear there was no way in hell she was going to approach me.

So, Sally had to pull out the big guns, folks. I walked straight over to her table stuck my hand out, said “I’m Sally…and you are…????” She immediately picked up on the vibe and struck up a conversation with me. About five minutes into it, she asks me if I’m straight. And, in her defense, you really can’t blame her, as I’m fairly sure the term “passing” may have been invented for me. Passing is an interesting topic of it’s own, really. For instance, when I saw her I thought, “Yep, that’s a lesbian”, which definitely gives me the advantage as far as making the first move goes. So, yeah, butch ladies, I understand why you may be reluctant to hit on girly girls.

In my experience, however, I’ve also noticed the old saying “Butch on the streets, femme in the sheets” to be quite accurate. Therefore, in almost all of my encounters/relationships with butch women I have been instigator. I’m the first one to fire up the conversation, and take the lead in the bedroom too.

Ok, back to Friday Night Hottie.

Later in the evening, Friday Night Hottie said, “You’re a top, aren’t you?” And then proceeded to comment about my aggressiveness- funny thing is, in my earlier days, I wasn’t necessarily a top. Or maybe I was just a top in disguise. I often noticed then how the butchies were uncomfortable in their own skin, unwilling to let their femmy girlfriends *ahem* service them. I always found this to be strange, and lords knows, I have helped many butchies get over this fear. Then again, I have many straight female friends who are similarly uncomfortable. So, obviously, it isn’t just a butch/femme phenomenon in gay/les circles. I’m more inclined to think it’s an f-ed up cultural attitude women have been indoctrinated into and, as a result, experience shame with regard to their bodies. It takes a lot of work to undo all of the societal conditioning imposed, but it can be done.

Before the evening ended, Friday Night Hottie introduced several of her friends and one of them said, “Hey, aren’t you a sex therapist? I could swear that was what I heard you did for a living.” Astute observation, my friend, indeed.

Souls on Parade

“It's about you and the sun
A morning run
The story of my maker
What I have and what I ache for

I`ve got a golden ear
I cut and I spear
What else is there?"--- Royksopp

I have been involved in exceedingly long drawn-out emotional conversations about nothing lately. Maybe that’s why I haven’t written anything of substance. I used to be a much better blogger when I knew nobody read this page. Now, I have no idea who see’s this, much less, who even cares about it.

And yes, lately, too, I admit I’ve been intellectually lazy. Anybody else ever feel that way? (shouting into the void!) Maybe it’s the summer heat, hell.. I don’t know anymore and I’m out of excuses.

Also, has anyone else been feeling utterly uninspired by what’s happening out there in blog land? I’ve become highly disillusioned by the internet feminists. I have never seen so much drama, hatred, and monotony spewed forth in such a methodical fashion. Blah. and Barf.

The radical feminist versus this person and that person has become a little predictable.

What else is there to say?

Also, sex.

So, you like it rough? So, you have a rubber crotch? (tribute to Sylvia Plath), so you like come fuck me boots, so you don’t like any of those things and eschew all items of that nature? What else is there?

If you’ve given away every secret in every conversation you’ve had, what else is there?

Last night, at a lovely Piano Bar in the company of my sister and three not so lovely gentlemen, my sister’s date said..

“Yeah, I agree with the War in Iraq, it’s a good thing….” or something to that effect. I honestly quit listening after the first line tho’, looked at him menacingly about three sentences into his diatribe and said, “yeah, if you don’t have a soul.”

I’m just done with it, ya know. Convincing these fuckwits that their opinions are wrong isn’t really important anymore. Once upon a time, Sally would’ve dueled verbally with this gentleman to the death, but no. Even if I could convince him to, oh, I don’t know, get a soul… “Hey, buddy, go pick up a fuckin’ soul, they’re on sale down the street!!” what difference does it make?

It doesn’t help matters that on Friday night I ran into a killing machine. Not yet, mind you. He’s not a killing machine quite yet- until he finally gets to go to Iraq and kill some people, he’s still a double-d douche bag with a small dick in the old U.S. of A.

Seriously, at a party on Fri. night I actually over heard the guy talking about how excited he was to “go kill some people.” Again, fuckwad, souls are on sale down the street. He also spoke about basic training and how his superiors degraded and humiliated him, physically, emotionally..even sexually? Straight out of the killing machine’s mouth.. he told us about how his commanding officer made him jerk off in front other men in big room. Sounds like a scene straight out of G.I. Jane to me, but nonetheless, true or false, this guy felt it necessary to recount the experience.

I found it hard to muster any compassion for this fellow. Yet, at the same time, I felt this young insecure lad probably was being or had been brainwashed by the government. Weird, huh? It was just the vibe I got. A shy self-loathing boy doesn’t turn into a killing machine overnight, you know. Or maybe they do.

A sexy piece of Scorpio man meat

For your inspection…


“It's off with the jeans, the jacket and the shirt
How'd I end up feeling so bad?” – Ryan Adams

What does everybody think of Ryan Adams?

The first song of his I heard was, “When the Stars Go Blue”, a few years back on a cd my ex-girlfriend made for me. It’s a lazy, melodic, melancholy love song, which seems to be Ryan’s style. A lot of his music is tortured and somewhat depressing. Aye, just what I like, Ryan.



There’s no doubt he has plenty of nasty emotional experiences to draw from, some self-inflicted and some imposed upon him. His dad left when he was 9 years old, so he was basically raised by his mother and grandmother. He dropped out of school at 16. He’s also a bit of a drunk and invokes the self-destructive artist image often. Maybe it’s not an image, as I get the feeling the guy is a little bit raw, if not temperamental and emotional in nature.



He’s been accused by critics as being manic in his drive to create. In 2005, he released 3 cds with all new material. Who does that? The guy seems to draw from an endless pool of inspiration. Plus, he’s a Scorpio, which means he will approach most activities in an extremely focused driven manner. He likes to work it, and honey, I don’t have a problem with that.



His newest album, Easy Tiger, was released in 2007. The only track I’ve listened closely to so far is “Two”. In the song, he talks about wanting to go home and being fractured from the fall. Ryan is insinuating or allowing the listener to draw on a much deeper image than presented on the surface, in true Scorpio fashion. The fall, meaning incarnating on Earth, and the disillusionment one faces while here- having a physical body and what not. In Two, he sings, “It takes Two when it used to take One”, which implies that once we get here, we have to depend on others for our survival. Talk about a lesson in surrendering.



It reminds me of when an old boyfriend, who was usually the sober responsible one, got out-of-his mind drunk, curled up in the back of his car, floated in and out of consciousness and then started mumbling about wanting to go home. Return to the primordial soup from which you came, earthling!



My all-time favorite song of Adam’s is from his cd “Gold” released in 2001 called “La Cienega Just Smiled.” Romantic, haunting, and lovely...reminds me of a boy I used to know....

Sleeping Beauty

"Pretending to be unconscious while he fucks me……"


I

have

lived in a cloud

with the fog and humidity

packed inside my brain.

And when I try to think clearly

all I get is more density

What is Purity?

Repressive

Sexual

Standards

Model

Behavior

Regressive

Tendencies

Shameful

Morally

Pure


Is stuffing your sexuality, desire, and pleasure beneath the surface in order to control it natural? Is it pure? Does it result in pureness? Or is the water just as dirty below the surface?

Notice that I said, “in order to control it.”

Picture this.

A young lad, with a strong desire nature who is sexually adventurous cuts himself off from all sensations, pleasurable or not. Control, Control, Control.

Now, imagine waking up one day consumed with lust. The young lad spends the entire day caving in, catering to his weakness. The next day, shame. And more shame. Self- punishing behavior ensues.

The cycle continues well into the young lad’s thirties until he realizes….. purity is not self-deprivation.

He realizes he has been brainwashed by a social system put in place by the ruling class to control the masses. He realizes the system requires a dirty, ugly, repressive, tainted, unnatural view of self to maintain strict compliance with their ideology.

But now, he knows purity comes from genuine self- awareness and self-acceptance. He lives free from structure imposed upon him on his own terms. He understands and respects feelings, desire, and sexuality in himself and others.

It’s a long road to get from here to there. It seems so simple, standing at the end of the road over here. Just come, just jump across the threshold, will ya?

Of course, I’m talking about Dr. Dude. We’ve been working so hard.





Hard.

Work.

Yeah.

Seems As Though I'm a Little Ass Happy

Mingle² - Online Dating

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

ass (9x) hell (4x) shit (3x) fuckin (2x) slap (1x)

Oh gosh, where to start…

Ok, so, I’m in major blog post arrears, I know.

BUT!

Budapest! Prague! Berlin! Yippee!

The trip was absolutely amazing. It was very surreal. Like standing on the moon, and going, “Am I really here?” The curiosity factor was high, and I did learn so much. I was able to keep a travel diary through out the trip and took so many pictures, which, will coming to a future blog post near you.

Until then, just a short note to say, hello, hope you are all well and in good spirits. ~ Sally S.

P.S. A naughty story about twelve unnamed Italians looking for a good time is definitely in the cards.