Monday, September 15, 2014

I'm Twittering--my Facebook imploded, and stuff people say to me at dive bars, take 1

I have been locked out of  my Facebook, and I am sad to say goodbye to 1500 fans--maybe many of you read this blog.  But, as one recent arts patron (an adorable techie who stands shorter than 5 ft) explained to me--Facebook has the rights to all your intellectual property, (I feel like I should have realized this before). Twitter seems like a much better use of my time. Not just to keep in touch with my erotic art friends and fans and patrons, but also to talk with other professionals, artists and advocates for people in the erotic arts/adult entertianment community.

So, look me up on Twitter, my little boyzenberries.

Oh, and I hope you understand that if you follow me on Twitter, you are more apt to see me getting involved in social justice discussions around adult industry/sex worker rights. Please understand, I am for client's rights too!

In other news, best comment made to me at a bar, of late:

The scene: An awesome Johhny Cash covers duo, father and son. They are old-timey Florida guys, each with  white hair, and a drawl. The elder, the dad, looks up at me, from where he is kneeeling over his guitar case and goes,

"Do you watch Orange Is the New Black?"

This is not what I expected to come outta this guy's mouth, so I just stare at him and smile for a minute.

He continues, "Whelp, cuz you look like that one inmate, the Italian one, she's real sweet and real cray--stalks her man."

I laugh, thank him and return to my table. His son ambles over, leans down to me and says, "Sorry about my dad, he has not been the same since Ma died."

The ladies I am with, librarian and sci-fi -writer types, immediately start Google image searching the character from that show and giggling.

This is actually one of the best dive bar comments I've had in a while. far better than, "Have you ever done it with a midget?' and "Are you a witch?"  (the latter in reference to my David Bowie eye).

Here's some pix in the mix. They have absolutely nothing to do with what I just blogged about and I will not pull a goofy hook to pretend they do. Though this is to say, this is not xxx "pink". It is live coral!

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Monday, August 25, 2014

Call from a famous call girl!

I got to chat on the phone with Maggie McNeil today! Maggie is a retired courtesan with s blog followed by thousands. She writes about issues of the industry and makes a clear case for justice, beyond the law.  She is now the author of

 Find it on her blog.

Hopefully, I'll get to visit with Maggie in-person, when she is here this week for the Florida-leg of her book tour.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Where I came from faux memoir song. Nothing like a
languorous erotic art companion with clever lyrics, born from the rodeo
and the rock n' roll circuit.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

how I love Gabo

“Descubrí que mi obsesión de que cada cosa estuviera en su puesto, cada asunto en su tiempo, cada palabra en su estilo, no era el premio merecido de una mente en orden, sino al contrario, todo un sistema de simulación inventado por mí para ocultar el desorden de mi naturaleza. Descubrí que no soy disciplinado por virtud, sino como reacción contra mi negligencia; que parezco generoso por encubrir mi mezquindad, que me paso de prudente por mal pensado, que soy conciliador para no sucumbir a mis cóleras reprimidas, que sólo soy puntual para que no se sepa cuan poco me importa el tiempo ajeno. Descubrí, en fin, que el amor no es un estado del alma sino un signo del zodíaco.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores

“Blood circulated through her veins with the fluidity of a song that branched off into the most hidden areas of her body and returned to her heart, purified by love. Before I left at dawn I drew the lines of her hand on a piece of paper and gave it to Diva Sahibí for a reading so I could know her soul.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores

Thursday, July 10, 2014

My mood improves, becomes a later-years Neko Case feel

The most tender
place/in my heart/is
for strangers/

I knowit's unkind but my own love is/
much too dnagerous
/hanging round the ceiling half the time
hanging round the ceiling
half the time

Also, this book reminded me that a form can be imagined to fit all shapes of experience, to tease them out and convert pain into pleasure and steady risk.