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.

I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend.

AND IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE ME AGAIN, I WOULD UNDERSTAND.

On Saturday night, as my back slammed against the granite on my living room floor, in the midst of a short but pleasurable threesome, I contemplated the meaning of life.

Just kidding.

Well, not really.

If I had more time for blogging these days I would post more about my nefarious sexual misadventures. But no. With the move, the strangeness of this life experiment, and the apparent increase in naughtiness, the words have been failing me. And that really is shame. So, I apologize.

I’d like to end this before I go influence young minds (not exactly, more like college-aged minds) with three weird things… (besides the hasty 4am cold hard floor orgy in my loft on Sat. night)

So, here you have it…

Weird Stuff

1) Leaving for work one morning and seeing a crowd of senior citizens with “Impeach Bush”, “Peace First”, and “War No More” signs. Their “Impeach Bush Now” van was parked in plain view across the street. I honked at the old folks, gave them a thumbs up, and was on my merry way to work- not the first thing I expected to see leaving my apartment at 8am.

2) Waking up to the sound of jack hammer inside my second story loft, eh, not exactly, but it was right outside my window on the roof. With curtains wide open, I made the trek from my bed to shut of my alarm, without one spec of clothing adorning my body. I hope the construction guys got a good look at my ass. Lord knows, they couldn’t have missed it.

3) Walking with a friend down the bike trails we came to impasse, so, we stood for a moment while we, and fellow walkers, enjoyed the view. Coldplay was blasting on my iPOD and I was feeling a little nostalgic and emotional when I looked to my right. A child, probably 4 or 5, had been restrained by a harness while his parents held him on a leash. That’s right, a fucking leash! My friend and I both happened to see the kid at the same time, as we watched the parents pull the leash back while the kid pushed forward with all his might. We immediately burst into laughter as the somber moment was replaced with disbelief. A fucking leash!!!!!

That is all.

More Weirdness to come, in the near future…

Secret Agent Man

Going Incognito……

It’s time I change my look.

I’ve moved into a new loft downtown, reconnected with old friends, made peace with ex-girlfriends, and even changed my blog. Change is in the air people!

As far as the blog goes, I was becoming aesthetically challenged with the old arrangement. Thus, reorganization was in order. When I changed templates it erased all of my previous blog links, so hopefully I’ve remembered to add everyone back on. If not, let me know.

Apart from being stylistically bored, I’ve also been a little sketched out about all of the recent media focus on bloggers/my spacers losing their jobs because of the content posted on their blogs. Then, there’s the issue of other bloggers threatening to “out” other bloggers in order to silence them. Hence, there will not be anymore personal/identifying information shared, or if it is shared, it will be kept at a minimum.

With that said…. hello freedom!

As Nasty as I Wanna Be, SS

Housekeeping!

It’s about time I update my blog link list. I’ve added a few new ones that I read often, like daily. Thanks for all the good reads ladies, SS

Puritanical Patty and the Thought Police

And the winner is.....

Until recently I was oblivious to all of this infighting among feminists. I just merrily went along my way with my feminism in tow and never gave it second thought. Now I can see there are clearly two different factions of internet blogger feminists and the battle lines have been drawn in the sand.

The sex negative, anti-porn, anti-femininity, and “don’t do that, you bad girl” judgmentals have assembled on one side. For efficiency purposes we will call them the blue team. On the other side of the ring, we have the sex positive, ass-kicking, capitalist loving, money makin’, desire expressin’ ladies. For the purpose of being colorful, we’ll call them the red team.

Both teams are feminist, but practice feminism in a multitude of ways. However, both teams are occasionally disgusted and enraged with one another’s approach to the F word. The red team doesn’t care for the blue teams abusive vindictive holier than thou’ reactions to their natural lusty ways. The red team also abhors the blue team’s hypocrisy for posting pictures of porn on their websites while claiming that porn supports and triggers violence against women.

The blue team wants the red team “to get control, and for god sakes, stop enabling the patriarchy!” and “remove those high heels, lipstick, and thong panties while you're at it!” and “Damn it red team, you silly little girls, take off that make-up and get with the program!”

Then, the blue team proceeds to devalue everything the red team does for the advancement of women AND individual red team women are attacked for even attempting to disagree with their imperialistic thought processes. How dare we!

but seriously…

Where do all these Puritanical Patties come from? I have no idea how so many of them were able to collectively climb out of the gutter on the same day. Getting together for another session of verbal group vomit again girls? Why I had no idea, I didn’t receive an invite for that party.

Obviously, you can see which team I favor. So, in support of all the fabulous brilliant reds blogging out there, RED TEAM GO!