Filed under: Feeble
Filed under: Music
So I haven’t been fond of Tori Amos’ latest effort or all the personalities and blogs to match. But this video from her latest tour is actually pretty interesting. Granted, she is singing an old song, “Cruel,” but watching her make funny poses and gyrate and model for us in her blond bob wig is pretty fun and I wouldn’t mind seeing her live again, I think. Anyway here’s the clip:
My favorite comment: “Holy shit! She is definitely channelling Aphrodite…”
Filed under: Feeble
So at last I’ve found a place to show the film. It will premiere on July 27 at 9pm at the Someday Lounge before the Gender Fluids perform. $5 cover.
Here info about the show after:
p. boy productions presents Snakes, Snails and Everything Nice, an evening of randy performance with Splendora and the Gender Fluids, Felina’s Arrow, Adam Hurst, and Garret Potter.
July 27. 2007
Friday 9:30 p.m.
5 dollars
21+
Someday Lounge
125 NW 5th Avenue
Anyway, come see the movie!! Let me know that you’re coming, tell your friends, spread the word!
Filed under: Love
I found these poems on The Hot Librarian:
You Fit Into Me
You fit into me
like a hook into an eye
a fish hook
an open eye
Margaret Atwood
Somewhere A Seed
Somewhere a seed falls to the ground
That will become a tree
That will some day be felled
From which thin shafts will be extracted
To be made into arrows
To be fitted with warheads
One of which, some day when you least expect it,
While a winter sun is shining
On a river of ice
And you feel farthest from self-pity,
Will pierce your shit-filled heart.
Michael Fried
May we all find ways to express our rage over shitty people.
I’m not sure how honest to be. The next part of the story is embarassing. It’s shameful. I still have not fully accepted what happened. That night in Albuquerque, the night before the wedding, I committed a sexual indiscretion much frowned upon by the gay community. Yet it’s one of those moments that simply happens, you didn’t think, you didn’t think, you didn’t think…and then he says to me, as we lay in each other’s arms, “How long have you been positive?”
My body stiffens. Energy zips through my spine. I look up at him with terror in my eyes and he pulls away from me for a moment and I say, “I’m not. But I guess you are.”
Filed under: Recipes
I invented this cocktail over the weekend as Ladybug and I laid out to enjoy the delicious and rare Portland sun. In describing it to a friend, she said “Oh it’s kind of like a mojito” only it doesn’t have mint or lime, so no, not at all. This cocktail is called the Giancarlo cuz it tastes Italian and then name sounds like a sexy lover who would make this and bring it out to you while you lounge. Here’s the recipe:
Filed under: Other Worlds
At this point in human history, there is much information out there that is valid, useful and effective. Whether it hides as new age, occult, religion, science, literature, art, math, physical disciplines, whatever it disguises itself as, it is useful information that can change your life. Or leave you feeling dull. It all depends on how you approach it.
The mistake that I find most common is to discover a new way of thinking, a new concept, and think that is IT. That this is the one thing, this is the TRUE story, the REAL way of seeing the world. Most folks stay on the first page of the thing, they refuse to explore deeper and rely simply on this one perspective to fulfill their spirituality.
It was Blondie that taught me that it was okay to talk during sex. And not just talk, but ask specifically for what you wanted. Up til then, I was under that sad deluded naivete that a ‘good’ lover would just know what to do, would just find those right spots. I’m not saying that doesn’t happen, but it’s not the only way it happens. This naivete is born from the notion that sex and love are the same thing. Blondie broke me of that ‘bad’ habit.
We would be lounging around my room, kissing and doing what we do, and he would out of the blue make a request, like I was a DJ on a radio station. At first, I was taken aback, like “I’m not gonna do that” even though I wanted to, but I just didn’t want him to ask me like that. It seemed so unromantic. I should have just known or he could have communicated without words. But Blondie was not like that. He pushed and prodded me to tell him what I wanted, to do what he wanted, to talk, to open up, to share desires. In about a week, I was babbling during sex, asking for this, telling him i liked that, and on and on.
Filed under: Music
I found recently this pretty useful blog called Puddlegum, “an indie music journal.” While perusing through its archives of music news and reviews, I came across two musicians that were intriguing. Both are one-man bands with odd “professional names” and both are pretty young. Which always makes me feel like I’ve been jacking off for ten years instead of being amazingly productive. Which is of couse patently untrue. But still…
Here they are:
