HETERO:

3D PORN GAME

3D SexVilla 2

TRANSEXUAL:

stand back. woman with a sword.

Oh, Dr Who. You showed such promise with the creation of Dr River Song. Whatever happened? Whither the love for the single, childless, middle-aged woman?

I realize that I react as a single, childless, middle-aged woman myself, and that my reactions to your most recent episode, “The Girl Who Waited,” speak as much about you as they do about me; my anxieties; my nightmares; my things that, while silent, go bump in the night. And yet, even as I recognize that I view this episode through my own “Rory-cam,” that is to say lenses that show you what [...]

she was a young american

Sorry to those of you who enjoy the sound of my voice. There's no audio for this piece because I don't do accents.

So, I ask him, how does it feel to be written about?

He narrows his eyes at me and does that thing with his shoulders and his mouth, that particularly Italian gesture where his lower lip and his shoulders make this twin parabolic arc, two parentheses echoing one another. He sets his fork down on his plate next to the brown bits and blubs of rabbit.

“You want to know?” He asks. He’s got these blue eyes. [...]

pubes, politics, pop and words, words, words

The crickets chirping on this blog wouldn’t make you suspect it, but I actually have been kind of busy the last few months. For one thing, I’ve been enjoying a simply crushing melancholy, one that has come complete with a charming shame spiral and the consumption many big blocks of cheese. It has been simply fabulous trying to get out of bed in the morning (and usually succeeding). Fortunately for those who love me, or even those who love to loathe me, it remains as difficult now as it ever has been to find a guillotine on EBay, and thus [...]

ovunque, ma qui

The wood is wet. Sadly, this is not a euphemism. The wood is wet despite my purchasing of a large, sturdy and reinforced tarp the exact color of the Green Bay Packers. It’s wet despite my diligent carting of it via wheelbarrow down the steep, stony incline to the villa. It’s wet despite my careful stacking of it in neat piles according to shape and size on the villa’s porch. It’s wet despite my thoughtful piling of it next to—but not too near to—the tiny fireplace that burns said wood, my sole source of heat in this stony Tuscan lonesome. 

[...]

bitchslapping 101

Last Saturday, I went to a play. It was, and I wish I could be more charitable, really pretty awful. It did, however, give me the platform to indulge in what very likely is the bitchiest bundle of prose I've yet committed to .doc and which was published today on one of my favorite blogs, Tits and Sass. The play in question, Stripper Lesbians (or possibly Lesbian Strippers, I can never remember), raised my ire not merely for its unabashed sloppy writing but also its lack of fundamental knowledge about strippers and stripping. Here's a choice morsel of my T&S [...]

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