Friday, December 21, 2007

New Age Fucking

“Hey Lloyd, I’m ready to be heartbroken
cause I can’t see further than my own nose at this moment.”
- Camera Obscura


Recently, I had the pleasure of merging with a kindred under a bright Pisces Moon. The connection, although erotic, was not necessarily of the ass-spanking variety. Our interactions were peppered with longing glances, soft caresses, and words of adoration. Eventually, due to my extended absence, suspicious friends begin to inquire about my apparent disappearance from the universe while puzzled lovers collectively scratched their heads as I ignored their calls.

Can love stand up against the bright light of the day? Or, are we just milking the dreamy glaze of fantasy with each passing face? How much “togetherness” can we tolerate before the dream is shattered and the veil is lifted? Does bliss fade when lovers physically separate? Will love withstand the separation?

These are all interesting questions that I will not answer. However, in not answering, if you pay attention, I have also answered. But, rather than play a rousing game of, “Riddle Me This”, let’s discuss fucking, in broad terms. As many of you know, Sally is in the business of nailing strangers without much ado. In some cases, names may be murky or even missing in their entirety. Since the most satisfying sexual escapades gratify anonymous gang bangs and forced sexual slavery, a deeper connection is not typically required or even desired.

What’s seriously funny (or not!) is Sally does not orgasm with strangers. Now, I think we can all agree sex is enjoyable whether you finish the job or not. But, if I know for a fact my random sex with strangers will not result in the Big O, why am I behaving like a mute fuck hole? Reader, I’m so glad you asked! But, I’m not going to answer this question either.

So, what else is there?

We cannot move through this Earth experience completely untouched and self-contained. Thus, once in a great while, a magician appears with his or her bag of tricks to pull the rug out from our feet to watch our knees hit the floor. Lucky for Sally, she is a dirt dweller. So, when one of these kindred spirits appears, clawing at the ground with bloody knees and palms does not faze me in the least.

We fall hard at these teachers/lovers/mentors feet because they have a special knack for “seeing the wound” and healing it. They know they’ve got it, the ambrosia; we need to swim in their cup and drink from its waters. Usually, there is a strong mutual recognition and acknowledgement of a soul connection under these conditions.

Unfortunately, serious emotional bonding, in my experience, rarely produces a fast & furious ass pummeling. Even if I politely request “whore treatment”, it’s unlikely to be granted. Soul merging and face spitting are generally not done in the same space. In fact, we may abandon the kinkier aspects of our nature, in order to focus the majority of attention on what is being emoted at the moment.

Tantric sex, although Eastern in origin has been westernized, pre-packaged and sold to the masses to promote emotional harmony and balance with partners. For example, there are thousands of workshops, instructional videos, and books published to demonstrate proper technique when performing a Lingham Massage. One is taught to “honor” their lover (or self!) through sacred sexual acts involving yoga and meditation.

Short Tantric Yoga Video



Here, we risk entering even more pristine territory, the holiest of the holy- the New Age Fuck. Before I continue, I must say, I am New Age girl. I read tarot cards, study astrology, and wholly embrace concepts like reincarnation, karma, and synchronicity. However, New Age Fucking is extremely offensive when it produces very little in the way of actual fucking. When we are required to treat our lovers as sacred deities rather than fellow human beings in order to fuck, I call bullshit.

I dare you to watch the video below without laughing.



Please note, I am not completely writing off the tantric movement as a whole, I am sure there are many benefits to its practice. Even so, this girl can only take so many “sacred yoni” references before lunch starts to rise in my throat. Sex can be an incredibly breath-taking soul affirming experience, but it also can be revered in the spirit of sport, physical challenge, and base animal lust.

Enough with the breathing and on to the fucking!

Happy Holidays!

Get ripped to shreds.

Love, Sally

Friday, December 14, 2007

Sex in the Soil

Autumn in Moldova

“When it’s missing then you want it more
It isn’t right
Turning out the door
And back to this
Leave it like it was before
And let me out”
-Warrior: Yeah Yeah Yeahs


We've all been subjected to abuse in some way, shape, or form. Whether it's a broken heart, a parent's abandonment, death, disease, poverty of the soul, or poverty of the mind- it's all there. We've walked down our quiet roads of desperation, swallowing anger, resentment, guilt, and toxic shame. And mostly, the grief is contained in our own private hell. It is in this hell, that we divide from other people and dive deep into our own cosmic experience.

There is an inner division too. Splits occur. Fragmentation sets in. We cannot see the truth in someone else’s experience because we are locked down in our own pain. We cannot gain any benefits from their experience because of our stubborn refusal to examine another’s journey outside of ours. We need open recognition of what our wounds are and the wounds of those around us, before we can embrace an enemy with compassion, or hell, even ourselves.

To make matters more difficult, we forget, the Earth is our greatest healer. We spend an obscene amount of time chasing plastic, only to forget the dirt under our feet and what it feels like. We disconnect and then make excuses for our collective sickness.

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord”

I am not a devoted religious scholar, or even a “believer” in the fucked up sense believing entails in modern day society. However, this old hymn runs through my brain every time I ponder the meaning of healing through the Earth. After we come to terms with our own wounds, and can clearly see and put into perspective the wounds of others, we may wonder how to proceed next with the process of, as one of my favorite writers would say, “Getting over thyself.”

Healing requires we get intimate with the Earth. Traveling, then, in a larger sense, represents a quest for release and the movement toward passion and love, as we acquaint ourselves with the Earth. For the thrill of letting go and for a sweet moment of peace, we move, with authority, out into the world.

When I started to realize what my eyes had seen, and how damaged my vision was (literally 2400/20, legally blind eyes!), I knew I had to learn to “see” differently, in order to heal. To see the world and myself differently, I flooded my psyche with imagery in brand new landscapes and sat with it. In essence, I went straight to the Earth for healing.

This naughty little sex writer, then, is taking a few moments from her ass-pounding, fist-fucking world to share, in orgasmic delight, my favorite places. These are the places I must go. I must see them with my eyes open so wide they pop from my head. I must sit on the Earth at each place and run my fingers over the soil and breathe. I must, belly to the ground, lay my ear down and listen.

Vintgar Gorge, Gorjie, Slovenia



Krka National Park, Croatia




Machu Picchu, Peru



The Blue Church- Chisinau, Moldova



Bran Castle, Romania




Lucerne, Switzerland



Travel it all away.

Love,

Sally.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Perverted Subconscious Space


“You come out at night
that's when the energy comes
when the dark side's light
and the vampires roam”
-Building a Mystery – Sarah McLachlan

Have you ever had a dream you were so ashamed of you wanted to crawl in a hole and hide? Then, did you punish yourself by playing the role of both victim and perpetrator? After all, it's your subconscious mind creating- not his, hers, or it. Shocking thoughts are like a whirlwind in our brains, taking root in the deepest corners of one’s psyche, pushing us to think twice about the direction of our life. Others might not be privy to it, but, make no mistake; a subconscious revolution is taking place.

Naturally, for Sally, the most shocking dreams have been deeply disturbing sexual dreams. Incestuous red-faced embarrassments tempered with uncomfortable silences color the dreamscape and demand I decipher their meaning.

First, I must point out, this topic may be triggering for those who have been subjected to incestuous abuse. My intention is not to further enhance the pain many have experienced. Next, I should reiterate, I, personally, am not a victim of sexual abuse. However, I wouldn’t be paying proper respect to the topic if I didn’t mention that incestuous relationships are not entirely bound to the physical- psychological/emotional/psychic rape can be present with or without physical contact. Nor are all sexual relations between family members harmful to the people involved, obviously, it depends on the situation.

Being a human being, incidentally, is trait many of us share on this planet. But, as I am writing this, I cannot believe that I am. The old Sally never would’ve shared the intimate details of her subconscious with the general public. However, it is my hope, in the honesty I offer, others will be inspired to do the same. Even though different experiences shape our inner world and define us, we are all, as one of my favorite musician’s would say, “citizens of the womb before we divide into sexes and shades, this side or that side. “ Thus, it is in the spirit of shared awareness that I reveal the details of the dream.

The dream sequence starts in my dwelling during my teenage years. My dad, who I haven’t seen in years, suddenly appears with his new wife. She is not the monster I expected. She is a young woman with pretty ringlet curls and a soft round face. She smiles at me, radiating warmth and positive energy. I smile back, say a few words to her, and enter another room.

I wait in the room for my father. When he enters the room, I’m filled with anxiety. I ask, “Why are you here?” His message is complex and I am horrified. I know he’s angry because I don’t understand. He removes his clothing, lies down beside me, and announces he’s returned to perform an initiation. He is suspended above me, dick hard, and ready to penetrate. I want it, but I will not let him do it. I’m deeply immersed in pleasure, when suddenly I’m whipped back into a new reality loop with force.

As my alarm sounds, the sickness stays with me. I feel disgusted, angry, and violated. The feeling persists through the day as I’m unable to shake the dream sequence from my brain. I cannot quite escape the literalism of the dream, but I am not completely bound to it either. I begin the process of slowly sifting through the tangled layers of my friendships, romantic involvements, and family relationships to uncover any hidden pretenses and find peace with my discoveries.

What I find, however, is not strictly literal or metaphorical. It does, but also does not, have much to do with the actual relationship my dad and I shared. In my dream, I will not fuck my father. In fact, I am terrified of who he is and what he’s trying to do to me. I resist, even though, my body clearly desires otherwise.

Through analysis, I realize I've stumbled upon a deep resistance to masculine energy and influence. You may have noticed my relationship with the feminine figure in the dream. I was relatively comfortable with her, perceiving her as soft, sweet, and tender. The masculine figure, however, was speaking in complex riddles and performing uncomfortable initiations on unsuspecting virgins. Unsurprisingly, I find myself, staring back at myself, in both masculine/feminine dream figures.

Further, since Sally often refers to herself as an “initiator of the highest order”, being initiated (i.e. taken back to school- sexually or psychologically) is extremely painful for this whore. But this is where I stand before you today.

Pay attention to any dreamtime shock waves you may be flooded with lately. Dreams of this magnitude represent a turning point in our mentality at the apex of an important revelation. But, before we cross that bridge and consciously integrate this “new material” into our lives, we must dive down into the abyss and recover. Eventually, synchronicity steps in to remind us we’re on path, when we are ready to process and put to use, our individual lessons.

Pluto and Jupiter hit the Galactic Core today, hold on to your metaphysical asses, friends.

Love & light in your direction,
Sally.

**Album Cover: Fatherfucker
Artist: Peaches

Friday, December 07, 2007

Bisexual Barnyard Classics

“Mule-bray, pig-grunt and bawdy cackles
proceed from your great lips.
It's worse than a barnyard.”
-The Colossus, Sylvia Plath


From sea to shining sea, mis-education and misrepresentation regarding bisexuality permeates across the land. The ignorance encountered daily could leave one’s heading spinning for weeks. From trite expressions of support from men- those drooling fools! - to predictable attention-seeking kisses from straight girls, bisexuality is routinely misunderstood.

However, because of its infiltration in popular culture, bisexuals no longer shock, amaze, or even perplex the most conservative person anymore. Many examples of canned pop culture bisexuality exist in modern day media presentations. So, when “A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila”, premiered this fall I was interested to see how society, at large, would react. Tila, a bisexual wild child, started the show with sixteen men and women, who were seeking a “shot at love.”


Tila gives granny a lap dance, Episode 8.

Tila, a sexy Scorpio vixen, charms her way into each person’s heart, but must eliminate a contestant each week until only one remains, the one who win’s her heart. Ironically, there aren’t any other “bisexuals” on the show. It’s lesbians against the straight boys and Tila’s the bi prize.

But, as we know from Alfred Kinsey’s published research, the majority of people are not strictly hetero or homo. Kinsey’s point is demonstrated on the second episode when lesbian Rebecca has “naughty relations” with straight boy Steven. Rebecca is sent packing and Steven remains after Tila finds out, which, my friends, is also very interesting.

Rebecca is viewed as a traitor while sheepish Steven is forgiven. The reasoning being, what guy wouldn’t try to bang the hot lesbian chick lying next to him? Hell, if she’s offering! The hot lesbian, on the other hand, has declared her sexuality, signed it in stone, so, fraternizing with the male species is forbidden. I suffered a similar fate when, out and proud, I announced to my girlfriend of two years that I would be fucking men again. Then, my girlfriend and the lesbian community shouted, in traitorous rage, “Off with her head!” and shunned poor Sally.

Conversely, our culture also emphasizes the glamour, sexiness, and popularity of bisexuality, as long as a careful eye on male approval is maintained. For example, compare the two sets of song lyrics below. The first set belongs to big time playa and rapper, T-Pain.

“My girl gotta girlfriend
I just found out but its aight
Long as i can be wit her too
My girl gotta girlfriend
It really is not a problem
Cuz imma make it do what it do
Cuz havin 2 chicks is better than no chicks
I'd rather just join in
Keep my girl and keep the other one too”


The first time my friend had me listen to this song at the gym, I almost threw up on the treadmill beneath me. T-Pain is free to join in anytime with Sally and another woman as long as I get first crack at his ass. In contrast, compare the lovely lyrical stylings of bisexual singer-songwriter, Ani DiFranco.

“He looks me up and down
like he knows what time it is
like he's got my number
like he thinks it's his
he says,
call me, Miss DiFranco,
if there's anything I can do
I say,
It's Mr. DiFranco to you.”


Obviously, there are conflicting views in our society regarding bisexuality. Men would like to politely remind us that there are rules, constraints, and dicks to consider. Girls, do not forget about the dicks!

Rule #1- Only women are allowed to show excessive affection toward their girl friends. Men, on the other hand, must remain stoic in their interactions with other men.

Rule #2- Men control the vast Empire of Female Ass. If a man wants a threesome with his girlfriend, another woman will be solicited, pending his approval.

Rule #3- Women must include men in all their sexual exploits with other women.

Rule #4- Cock is still the main star. Men are allowed to watch, intervene, and fuck either partner at will.

It’s under these predetermined societal conditions women must discover and nurture their sexuality. And we wonder why the inhabitants of our society are sick. We may also wonder why female sexuality must cater to male satisfaction. Sadly, in a system where men hold most of the resources, power, and the power of approval, women will always be poor. As women, we must consciously work to break free from this desperate need for male approval.

Frustrating “fake bi girls”, then, are just another natural sickness of the current system. These “fake bi girls” vie for male attention by pretending to fuck other women, but only in public, when men are watching. This is a very disappointing development because, in the past, bi/lesbian women could truly be counted on to eat pussy- with gusto. Now, Sally must field random advances from seemingly straight women. These naughty little teases, who have no interest in bringing it down South, make out with Sally in front of curious on-lookers, but disappear when the lights go down. I have no problem with bi-curious women, if you are, indeed, bi-curious. Unfortunately, some these women get a high from piggy-backing off of Sally’s sexual energy. Physically, my body loves each and every one of those playful attention-seeking straight girls, but, my mind is telling me, Sally, be careful.

Nobody wants to deal with a salty blue balls Sally.

Happy Friday, y’all. Peace and Love to my bisexual freaks. ~ Sal.