Archive for April, 2008|Monthly archive page

My Trip To New Orleans, Thus Far

In politics on April 28, 2008 at 6:52 pm

Rode a greyhound bus on a one way ticket to NOLA.
Contemplated the US border patrols policies and how they resemble those of Nazi Germany.
Encountered the dreaded flying cockroach.
Built a dungeon.
Discovered that my kinky friend is having a “not kinky” phase / freak out.
Met Jan.
Received admission letter from prestigious graduate school in San Diego.
Drank too much and fell in the street (sprained my ankle).
Ate Crawfish for the first (and last) time.
Saw a jazz show.
Peed on boy.
Ate a homemade corndog.
Booked screening of If Lucy Had A Whip at a movie studio – Wednesday April 30th at 8:00 PM – Email freaksofcomedy@gmail.com to get on the guestlist.

A more in depth look at my adventure will come soon. Be patient as I enjoy myself.

New Orleans — A Casting Call, A Screening, Perverts, and Jazz Fest!

In Adventure, bathroom, BDSM, beer, Comedy, deviance, one-woman show, performance, perverts, sexual politics, traveling, Widow Centauri on April 20, 2008 at 5:02 am

I am on my way to New Orleans.

I love going to The Big Easy it makes me feel so much more human than the city of the devil ever could. The people are polite, the food is greasy and you can take your beer to go! Ahhh heaven.

I’ll be getting into town on Tuesday morning. I have a dungeon just outside the French Quarter. I’ll be available for sessions through Jazz Fest. Weekdays are better for me. I’m looking for a dirty toilet boy to use during the event – I don’t like portapotties. You have to be adventurous for this.

I’m not doing any live shows in New Orleans (this time) but I’m hoping to screen my one woman show, If Lucy Had A Whip: Tales of An American Dominatrix, at a movie studio. I’m waiting for confirmation on the screening date. As of now it’s the 28th, 29th, or 30th. If you would like to be invited to the screening let me know and I’ll put you on the list.

Also, I’m looking for a few non-union actors to cast in a short comedy. Headshot / resume to freaksofcomedy@gmail.com

I can’t wait to tell you about my trip. It’s gonna be quite an adventure.

Shoes and Sex

In bathroom, BDSM, Comedy, dating, deviance, dominatrix, drinking, Lorelei, Lorelei Erisis, Sex, sexual politics, shoes, T-Girls, Widow Centauri on April 18, 2008 at 9:22 pm

Aggg my chucks were stolen.  I walked to the Improv and then put my
high heels on.  I stashed my chucks behind the booth and didn’t think
anything of it.  When I was ready to leave my chucks were missing.
Gone.  Just gone.

Fuck it looks like I’m walking home in my high heels.  Dammit.

On the walk home I fell and messed up my sexy blue shoes pretty badly.
 I hope the shoemaker can fix them.  As I was walking I got around to
wondering what could have happened to my shoes.

My feet are very small.  Freakishly small.  No one has the same size
feet as me.  And who would sneak off with my nasty old chucks anyway?
A dirty shoe stealing fetishist.  Yep.

I was able to come to the conclusion that either the person is really
into me and wanted to take my shoes home to masturbate with, or this
person was really into dirty chucks and took them for their own
sexiness.  In my little mind I can fathom no other reason why someone
would have made off with my chucks.

I love chucks.  I dig the high tops but I don’t lace the top whole.  I
have been searching for a good source for colored chucks.  I want a
pair or pink ones and a pair of blue ones and a pair of green ones.
Pretty much any color chucks do it for me.  Their simplicity is what
gets me.  They are just simple pieces of canvas tied to my feet but
they are sleek, easy to walk or skip in, I can wear them with a dress,
a pair of jeans, or a fetish outfit.  I love my chucks – I hope the
perv who stole them enjoys them too.  Dirty fucker.

If you came to see me last night – thanks.  I had a great set.  When
the show was over my girlfriend and I fucked on the stage.

We shouldn’t have been there that late but once I realized that my
shoes had gone missing I decided that the only reasonable thing to do
was keep drinking.  People came and left.   We sat at the bar, went
upstairs, around back, and continued to kick it well past the point
anyone would have liked.  When we got up to leave I took my girlfriend
by the hand and walked her into the bathroom.

The large stall in the Improv is a great place to fuck.  There are
handrails all around the stall, it is big, back in the corner, there
is enough room to put your clothing in a heap, throw your legs in the
air and get your freak on.

We were in there doing our thing and we can hear them start to shut
down the Improv.  Clark, the manager, is audibly telling people to go
home.  There is no noise at all.  I take Lorelei by the hand and we
peek out of the bathroom door.  Seems Clark is the only one in the
building.  We head into the showroom.  All the lights are off.  I
climb on stage and hop up on the piano.  I pull my skirt up and shove
her face between my legs. After a few minutes I pull her she-cock out
of her panties and make her fuck me with it right there on the piano
on the Improv stage.

We can see through the little window that Clark is in the office.  We
are trying to be quiet but if you have ever had sex on a piano you
know that it not the easiest thing to do.  I bend over and have her
fuck me from behind.  I tell her to come in me – then I make her lick
the jizz out of my pussy.

She puts her she-cock back into her panties and I pull my skirt down.
Beat, Beat, Lights get thrown on and Dave the bartender comes walking
into the showroom.  “What are you guys still doing here?” he asks.
“Just looking for my chucks – you haven’t seen them have you?” I say.
He gives us a big shit eating grin and says no.

Hollywood Improv Thursday Night at 8:00

In Comedy, Widow Centauri on April 15, 2008 at 9:32 pm

Come see me do my funny thing on Thursday night at 8:00. I’ll be at the Hollywood Improv doing a bit from my one woman show. They will be premiering the comedy pilot I was recently cast in that night as well!

Come and laugh!

Hollywood Improv
8162 Melrose Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90046

8:00 PM Thursday Night

I hope to see you there!

WordPress Changed Their Dashboard — Not So Mac Friendly

In bitch, politics on April 15, 2008 at 5:49 pm

I haven’t added much to my blog in the last few days. Maybe you are wondering why. It’s not because I haven’t been writing it’s because I’m having to deal with wordpress. They changed their dashboard and it is not so Mac friendly. I work with my photos and so naturally I use a Mac. I have a PC on the other side of the desk – I got it to study for the GRE but never got around to throwing it out the window like I fantasize about every time I have to use it.

Anyway, wordpress has made it somewhat difficult for me to post pictures in my blog. Everything was fine until they changed the layout of the dashboard. What a royal pain in the ass. I started messing with flickr so I could at least have some photos of me in the side bar but giving the rss info to wordpress was simply freezing things up. It looked like wordpress had failed to test the code before throwing this new dashboard my way.

That’s when I thought I would mosey over to the PC and give it a try. You know how these things are. I was able to successfully post this sexy photograph from the stinking PC. Hmmm. This presents something of a pain in the ass for me. I love my Mac. I don’t want to touch the other thing. All my photos are accessible on my Mac – I have to work them over in Photoshop and burn them, walk all the way around the desk, to post an entry with photos. Jeez what a lot of unnecessary trouble. It’s not that the journey to the other side of the desk is so tremendous but I take my drink with me and then when I come back – I forget it, so when I want a sip of the delicious beverage I’m drinking I go for it and it is several feet away – grrr.

Thanks wordpress.

My Girlfriend’s Dick

In bitch, kink, perverts, politics, Widow Centauri on April 15, 2008 at 4:00 pm

I have never had a girlfriend who didn’t have a dick. My first girlfriend was named Sylvia she was 18. I was 17 but lied and said I was 18. No one questioned me. She had several dicks which her 40 year old boyfriend had given her.

Now that I am a bit more grown up I have developed a more refined taste in women’s dicks. Unless you are just encountering me for the first time by reading this you probably know that I have a transsexual girlfriend. She has a real cock, not a silicone one.

When people meet her they immediately ask about her dick. They say things like “have you had THE SURGERY?” This is a segue into a conversation about cock. If the first time you met someone they asked about your genitalia you might think that person to be something of a lewd pig. Am I wrong? So why is it that everyone asks about her dick straight away? They feel entitled. Entitled to some bit of information about what is between her legs.

Gender is not what is between your legs. Your genitalia is what is between your legs. Gender is something a bit more like sexual preference – a spectrum. Gender is not fixed. It is not easy to define. Gender is a feeling, not a dangly bit.

Now I don’t want to come off as a silencer of questions. Quite the contrary. I understand that people what to know exactly what this whole transsexual thing is. We do too. Sadly, there is not enough information in the world about transsexualism for us to have a clearly defined understanding of it in our modern western ways. We are groping in the dark, hoping to find something to grab onto –a cock perhaps.

When people ask about THE SURGERY they are in fact enquiring into the seriousness of the situation they see before them.

Is this a trend?
Is this something you will outgrow?
Did Widow make you do this?

You know how dominatrices love to change boys into girls. Or is that just a myth?

So much of what we know about sexuality and gender is a mess right now. People are coming out in vast hordes and the majority of “straight” people are looking around wondering if they are the minority. I believe that the people who actually fall into what we think of as the straight and “normal” range are probably a minority. Haven’t you ever wanted to have sex with someone who resembled your own gender?

I can tell you how many emails I get from men who say something like “I want to be forced to suck dick … I am straight and don’t want to be near men at all … no men.” WTF? I want to suck dick but I’m straight? Hmmm. Interesting phenomenon. Hundreds a month – no joke.

So if straight guys want a chance to suck dick and all women are two drinks from being lesbian what doesn’t it really matter what is between your legs. Is that all that matters when you are inquiring about someone as a person? Are the genitalia your defining characteristic? Is that the only part that matters to you when you are looking for a sexual partner? Don’t you need to find the person stimulating in any other way? Is what you find between someone’s legs more important to you than what comes out of their mouth?

I come back to the place where I see that people do want the information. It’s not that they think they are being rude. When you meet someone differently gendered you want to know what is in their panties. It’s a little like we all become curious five year olds in the presence of a transsexual. At least little children have the decorum to ask “are you a boy or a girl?” not “do you have a cock or a cunt?”

If people were that blunt about it we would not have to engage in this one sided discussion about the importance of a little dignity. Have some for yourself. Have some for a girl with a cock. It’s not easy going through the world as a misfit. Don’t you know that? So, if you don’t mind, tell me here why it is so important for you to know what is between my girlfriend’s legs.

You and Me — April 17th!

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, censorship, dating, deviance, Los Angeles, politics, porn, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, traveling, Widow Centauri on April 8, 2008 at 2:08 am

Before I just jump into a political tirade I’m gonna bring you up to speed so your not left wondering “hey isn’t this a sex blog?”

A few years ago I wrote a research paper on the privatization of public space. A month ago I was blocked from Collar Me, a kinky dating website, for no apparent reason. A couple days ago my Craigslist account was frozen. After the frozen craigslist situation I found myself wondering how and why people are blocked and deleted from myspace. I asked people on Max Fisch and MySpace if they had been censored. The response I got was pretty pathetic. Bhaa Bhaaa Bhaa is what I heard as I opened the thirty or so messages, read the few threads on the forums, and followed links that people sent my way.

Not one to give up so easily I opened the bibliography from that research paper. I found myself at Steve Macek’s website. He is an urban geographer who you might like to try if you have any interest in urban politics, media, the poor, and the con that Big Brother would like us to fall for. He is great.

That said, I saw a little banner on his site that said “save the internet,” I clicked it and found what I was looking for. It’s not MySpace and Craigslist and Collar Me that are the problem. Censorship of any kind is the problem.

On the 17th of April all five members of the FCC are leaving Washington to attend a public hearing on net neutrality. “What is that?” I hear you wondering and probably fumbling with the pronunciation. Net Neutrality is the idea that we have freedom to view the internet. Your ISP is guilty of spying on you, slowing your connection, and freezing your downloads. Many of you know this, I hope.

Comcast, AT&T, Verizon, and the other big wigs of the high speed broadband service that we all have come to rely on want to slow us down and censor the websites we can view. “ya right” I hear you saying to yourself. Really. Congress is actively considering a bill entitled the ‘‘Internet Freedom Preservation Act of 2008.’’ It prevents providers “from blocking, thwarting, or unreasonably interfering with the ability of consumers to access, use, send, receive, or offer lawful content, applications, or services over broadband networks.” ( http://markey.house.gov/docs/telecomm/hr5353.pdf )

I find it hard to believe that you don’t have any understanding of big businesses privatizing our nation. I know you have heard about public schools not having enough money to operate so they have to take money (and ads) from Pepsi, you might not know that California prisons have been turned over to private companies and that AT&T uses prisoners as their customer service operators. That might explain why they don’t seem to care. They are being paid $2 an hour and serving 20 – life. Hmm. I hope you have an idea that almost every media outlet in this nation is owned and operated by Rupert Murdock. I sent him a friend request on MySpace. He denied it.

“So what does all this have to do with dominatrices being deleted from myspace?” I hear you wondering. Censorship sucks. MySpace is a privately owned website yet we treat it like a public place. Before MySpace, prior to the advent or even invention of the internet people gathered to discuss things in public spaces. In the last decade the internet has taken the place of the public park and the public park has begun to privatize. When people want to hear the opinions of others they look to the internet. When people have something to say, or they want to rally people for a cause, they go online. I think this is a huge mistake. The censors are beginning to shut down opinions that they disagree with. At some point we all began to take free speech for granted. We are still protected by the first amendment, theoretically.

So what happens when the opinions you hold are not opinions you can get seen online. According to a few of the people who responded to my Max Fisch post anyone involved with the BDSM community should realize that we don’t belong on MySpace and we should pack it up and leave. This seems a bit like saying “why do the coloreds have to use our toilet? They have their own.” Seriously why should your art, lifestyle, and opinions be any more valid than someone else’s?

Why we are all so willing to look the other way when it comes to the privatization of space? Most of the kinky people I know would rather hang out in a kinky bar then a straight bar, even if they have to drive an hour and pay twice as much for a drink. People on these web sites say “It’s cool – we shouldn’t be here” WTF? Why shouldn’t we be here? Do my ideas, sexual preference, politics, or skin color offend you? Maybe I should leave.


Why are dominatrixes being deleted from MySpace? Inappropriate content. What does that mean? Politically inappropriate? Socially inappropriate? Offensive to someone? Who? Who makes that call and how come they can get away with it?

They can get away with it because they are a private website and you had to click the “I Agree” button on their terms of service and you didn’t read it – I know you didn’t. They know you didn’t. Did you read the updated terms of use when myspace sold to Fox? News Corp owns MySpace they also own Fox News. They are not the most reasonable take on news in the world. Fox has a history of playing on viewer’s insecurities. When they acquired MySpace people just kept on using it worrying more about whether or not they were going to charge for it and less about the politics of MySpace.

MySpace was started by a guy named Tom in Santa Monica, CA. He started it as a way to network local music. Yesterday I was reading the text on kumi monsters MySpace page. She is a fetish model who has a raging anti band comment “I don’t want to listen to your band, I won’t support your band, I’m not interested in your band …” MySpace was designed as a place for bands to get noticed – not for the rest of us to bitch and moan.

A dominatrix on Max Fisch suggested that myspace was for children, that it was like a kiddy version of Facebook. MySpace was created for alternative bands and the people who wanted to find them, buy their music, and go to their shows. Facebook was created for college students, by college students and until recently you couldn’t even register for the site without an email ending in .edu

Do you have a strong opinion about something? Go ahead tell me what it is just as long as it falls into the acceptable opinions here on this page. Does your opinion offend someone? Does it offend Fox? Murdock? Does he find you to be a nuisance? Is it worth censoring you? If it were would you have something to say about that? Where do you think you would try to say it?


I have come across a lot of people saying things like “I’ll just put it on my own website.” That’s nice. I have two of my own websites and I frequent social networking sites a lot more. They let me keep in touch with all of my people, my fans, my rl friends, and encourage people from the past to spring up unexpectedly.

Social networking sites are not the enemy. The enemy my friend is the willingness we have to say goodbye to our rights in the name of safety. Everywhere I look some authority is selling another story of safety. If you just give up your fourth amendment right to be protected from unreasonable search and seizure children will be safe from pedophiles and copyright holders won’t have to starve to death. Really? Hmmm.

When big business tries to sell me on the idea that I don’t belong somewhere I start asking myself why not. I’m the first person to stand up and say “everything I know is wrong … I’m an American .. I’m an asshole.” Why are we all so terrified of our own shadow that we are not willing to fight for our rights?

There are plenty of reasons to avoid MySpace all together but saying “yes I don’t belong here,” if you want to be there, is silly. Why would you choose to leave? Do you really think that you are offensive? Maybe you are. But what about the rest of us? The people who are legitimately trying to connect with people because we are artists? Offensive artists included. Are we supposed to censor ourselves to fit into the box as the box continues to shrink smaller and smaller?

Keeping yourself on your own website is fine if that is your choice. If you are trying to get a little face time it is less than wise. In this land of “look at me” why would anyone sulk away and hide? If you are willing to post pictures of your summer vacation, your pets, and your new boyfriend on the internet you should be willing to ask yourself what the internet means to our freedoms.

When people are happy to stay on their own turf no one learns new things. People don’t change society, no one is forced out of their comfortable bubble of life, you won’t have to see people who look different, sound different, or think differently. Life is not about being comfortable. Comfortable is boring. Americans have forgotten this.


The fight for public space is an important crusade. Los Angeles is a massive sprawling city. It has very few public parks. When the privatization of park space occurs we all suffer. Through the pseudo-public space anyone undesirable can be removed. One would almost have to ask “why bother coming to this park if all I get is a corporate sameness?”

The hegemonic model of society has tricked us into believing that a place that is clean and well maintained is a “pleasant experience.” We have been trained to desire a sterile feeling of sameness. A cookie cutter culture that represents the privatization of everything. It is time we wake up and take notice of the developers and the damage they are doing to society by keeping people out. It is important to see people who do not look like you. It is important to hear other people’s opinions about the world, even if they disagree with your own – especially if they disagree with you.

Why have we blindly accepted this new model of society? This strip mall culture where we are not allowed to walk a certain way, talk about certain things, or see certain people should infuriate every one of us. Instead it makes us feel safe. What hogwash.


If your opinion of MySpace is a cheery one and you are willing to not offend with your content (I know several people who have had profiles deleted for political opinions) I might hear you say “oh well they need to follow the rules” but what if it is you? Would you want to get the message out that you have nowhere to be heard?

You can’t go to the park anymore. The city of LA has fewer public parks than any other metropolitan area in the country – including Detroit. And if you are speaking your mind in public space how do you know you won’t be silenced? You might be. The USA has turned into a police state.

Everywhere I look the censorship is getting more and more obvious. Why do we all continue to post our lol cats instead of our opinions of the Orwellian world that we have created for ourselves?


“So what am I supposed to do?” I hear you wondering. Come to the summit on the 17th of April with me.

Everything you love about the internet is gonna get all fucked up if you don’t help to save our internet freedom. Protect Net Neutrality. Visit this website, write to congress, and come to this summit with me. I’ll be in a rubber dress with a camera and a lot of questions. “People need to control their ability to speak out, innovate and spread new ideas without the fear that a company like Comcast, Verizon or AT&T will yank the cord.” (savetheinternet.com)

We have to stop big business before they stop my download.

Daniel Rivas — What A Great Photographer!

In Uncategorized on April 4, 2008 at 7:20 pm

DanielRivas.netDaniel Rivas Recommendation

The Politics Of Faking An Orgasm

In Adventure, bathroom, BDSM, bitch, closeted faggot, Comedy, dating, deviance, FAQ, kink, Lorelei, Lorelei Erisis, Los Angeles, politics, Public, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, Widow Centauri on April 3, 2008 at 9:51 pm

Victorian Widow Centauri

Today I wish to contemplate the fake orgasm.

I have found myself wondering why women continue to feed the egos of men through perpetuating the fake orgasm. It’s such a cliché to fake one – my god why are we still doing this? And why don’t men know how to cope with blatant sexual advances? Can women not be sexual creatures without violating some man centric ethics board?

Monday afternoon I’m nursing a hangover. Lorelei and I are chugging Bloody Marys and eating meat when the pretty black boy next to us says hello. I’m pretty tipsy so I reach over and grab his cock. I slide him my number as I head out the door. I have a slave hopeful to meet.

Tuesday at 7:30 he calls “hey its Brad…remember me?” If he had waited a day I would not have but as timing is everything in this life I went to meet him for a drink at The Dresden. He was waiting at the bar when I walked in 5 minutes early – a good sign.

People are always sending me messages about how they want to “get to know” me. That is hilarious. I tell them to Google me. Everything you need to know about me can be found with a simple Google search – I’m easy. You, dear reader, probably know me better than anyone who meets me for a drink to ask me the same five fucking questions over and over. I’m very single minded. Sex is all I ever think about. I wonder about the many different styles and genres of sex, the politics of sex, and (most importantly) how I can achieve sex in the next ten minutes. Easy, right?

We had three drinks as Marty and Elaine rocked the house. This boy thought that because I grabbed his dick I wanted to fuck him. I can see why he thought that. He suggested we go to his place and I realized that it has been a long time since I have gone to someone’s place. A hotel, a bathroom stall, my dungeon – sure, but someone’s place? “Alright your place” I said. He told me that he lives in a studio apartment and only has a mattress on the floor. My place it is.

I am coming to the conclusion that I live in a bubble of privilege. I don’t wash my own dishes or laundry, I have a wonderful PA who plays the most wide ranging musical pieces for me, when I want sex my TS girlfriend gets me dressed and pushes me out the door to fuck a big black man.

After making the clear-cut choice to not fuck on a ratty floor mattress ala Hollywood slum we headed for the back door. But we needed to pee and accidentally ended up in the coat closet together. It’s a big closet but in LA no one needs a coat so it was pretty empty. I shoved him up against the wall and unzipped his trousers. I sucked his dick for a second and grabbed a magnum. He fucked me from behind – someone opened the door, realized it wasn’t the bathroom, didn’t see us. We kept fucking trying to keep our moans to a minimum – the door flew open and the light went on. I sprang up and his dick went soft immediately. Whoever opened the door and turned the light on must have known we were in there but the way the closet is set up we had not been spotted. They killed the light, closed the door and left just as quickly as they had come in. “Let’s get out of here” I said, pulling up my jeans.

He parked on the street so we had a little walk. We jumped into his vintage (read old) BMW but before we had a chace to continue our romp from the closet he zoomed off. His seat was wicked close to the wheel – like he was real short or something. Zoom Zoom – turn right, right again, right one more time. His driving was super jerky. He didn’t stall the car on the four-minute trip to my pad but he did have to slam on the breaks and jerk me forward. Sexy, huh?

As we headed down the long dark street I realized that his lights had not been tuned on. We found a spot right in front and went in. Strip and put your clothing in the basket. “You strip,” he started in, as though I wasn’t serious. “Strip or get out,” I explained to him. His naked body was tiny but somewhat muscular. “You’ll do,” I thought.

I pushed him on top of the cage and started sucking his dick – he tried to push on my head. I’m not into gagging for a one-night stand. WTF? I know what I’m doing so get your hand off my head. I’m done sucking it. I slip a condom on his dick and climb right up. He is irritating me a little so I climb up backwards – reverse cowgirl.

I’m watching myself in the mirror and having a fine time. “Grab my ass” I tell him. He tries to but his hands are too small. He slaps it instead. I take his hands and put them on my hips but he just can’t seem to hold on. “Do you want to stay in charge or have me fuck you?” He asks me this as if the two realities are mutually exclusive. “Both” I say and I can see the bewilderment in his face. I slide forward and he gets up behind me. He is back there fucking like a jackhammer. Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang! I’m watching in the mirror and I’m talking to myself in my head. I’m not really digging his style but I’m gonna get mine so I begin to notice his dark skin and I’m watching in the mirror – it’s alright I guess. I stand up and have him get behind me. He goes to slide his dick in but he is a couple inches shorter than me so I have to spread my legs to lower down. He is trying to stand on his tiptoes and make it seem natural. It’s kind of funny. I try to get him to grab my ass but it is no use. Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang!

I notice the shadow on the floor and start thinking about how there is a serious lack of kink in this sex. Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang! I notice the clock and realize that it is quarter of 12. If he can’t get it together in 15 minutes I’m done with this. Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang. I’m thinking about the last guy I fucked. His hands were big and he knew what he was doing with a woman. I’m built for sex. That is what I am all about. This little guy behind me just couldn’t hold on to my ass. He wasn’t able to take direction. Bang Bang Bang!

“You fuck like you drive” I tell him. “I understand that’s how you like it,” he comes back. “You don’t even turn your lights on … I’m not feeling it” I say. “I can change gears,” he tells me. “Do you know how to drive an 18 wheeler?” I ask him.

The breakdown of the Bang Bang Bang led me to the conclusion that we could talk for a second, fess up to the fact that I’m just not that into his sex but that I was digging him at the bar so maybe we could be friends – ya know?

That’s when he freaked out. “You’re so mean. You need to not be so mean to people.” “Mean? I met you in a bar and fucked you in the coat closet. I brought you to my place and fucked you some more. You must have real nice friends cause in my world that’s not mean dickhead!” He glazes over at me and tries to grab my face “Look into my eyes” “NO I don’t wasn’t to look into your fucking eyes – what are you some kind of faggot – look into my eyes … I’m not that kind of lover. I have studied Tantra and I’m not game for it in that look into my eyes bullshit.” I thought about head butting him but he pulled he face back before I had to go there.

I didn’t want to start a fight I was just over the sex. It was boring me. He kept stomping around and acting like a fucking five year old. I had to show him where the door was. “you’re a looser” he said to me “I could have done better with my hand”

I went back inside and called my girlfriend who immediately made me a drink and fucked me with a giant pink silicone cock. I came three times and had a midnight snack. I hope he sleeps well on his mattress on the floor. I am such a bitch. Can you believe I had sex with him – how mean of me! Hilarious!

Just the same I realized a few things while I was watching the shadows of sex and wondering where he learned his Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang technique — to say nothing of the pillow talk “you like that baby” ick! Talk to me – I’m into it but don’t say “ooooh that feels soooooo good … your pussy is sooooo wet” like some bad porno. I’m glad I have the sort of experience to just cut the sex short. I’m in it for my pleasure. I’m an asshole, I know.

Sometimes I forget how kinky I really am. Just like everybody else, I try to convince myself that I’m vanilla. I’m not. It was Tuesday night that I realized I have a hand fetish. If your hands are not big enough to hold onto my ass you are not big enough to ride this ride. I should put a size chart online.

I like sex in public, I like to be paid, I like big beautiful black men, not prissy little metro sexuals. I don’t want to fuck someone who looks like they should be on the cover of a high gloss magazine for wealthy kids who think that because they have a Mohawk they are punk rock. No, I want to fuck men who resemble basketball players, hot trannies, big dykes, and myself. I’m also a pretty heavy sadist and if you’re not a physical masochistic I will pry my way into your psyche and get my pleasure through your pain. There, now you know.

To get back to the question of faking it. I have to wonder what other women do when they find that the Bang Bang Bang of this random stranger just isn’t doing it for them. If there are any women reading this please tell me what you would do. Would you tell him, kick him out, get off, and get some sleep? Would you just hope he was going to be quick about it, let it ride and not return his calls? Would you not have been in this situation at all because you don’t have one-night stands like the slut you want to be?

When I bring a guy home from a bar it is not for his good time. It is for mine! I am coming to the realization that I am the exception to the rule when it comes to sex. Maybe if I hadn’t had sex all month it would have been better. What are we so afraid of? Hurting a man’s ego? Telling him “you are physically not capable of rocking my world. How bout you get some ice cream for us, eh?” What is the problem? Why do we fake it? If more men knew that they were lousy in bed maybe they would work to improve their skill. Warm the motor up. Turn the lights on.

Red Velvet Widow Centauri

Paying For The Social Inadequacies Of Men

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bitch, bitchy, bullshit, censorship, cheap men, closeted faggot, corsets, culture clash, discrimination, dominatrix, drama, Dykes, FAQ, fun, Gay, gender, Gender bending, GLBT, GLBTQ, Kindness, LA, Lesbian, Lorelei, Lorelei Erisis, Los Angeles, Model Mayhem, neurosis, perverts, Photographer, politics, Pride, queer, sexual politics, sexuality, shoes, the bus, Trannies, Transsexual, traveling, Van Nuys, whores, Widow Centauri, youtube on April 2, 2008 at 1:37 am

Hobo Widow Centauri

The privileged white male complex has never once impressed me. In fact anyone who thinks that they are better than other people makes me want to scream. I have a very low tolerance for bigots. Saturday I experienced discrimination that would have been much easier to take if it hadn’t been so two faced. I really have a much easier time with people in New York. When they don’t like you in New York they tell you, they don’t take your picture.

When the phone rang an hour ago it was Andy http://www.modelmayhem.com/member.php?id=392579 the photographer Lorelei and I shot with on Saturday. He was screaming “you are such a bitch I can’t believe your attitude .. just because your a dominatrix … nobody treats me like that.” And he is right I am a bitch, but I had not been a bitch to him. Quite the contrary — I had been too busy biting my tongue trying to get some decent shots to have been bitchy to him. Rather it was he who had been a self righteous bigot. When he began screaming at me I realized I had to post this story I wrote on Sunday morning.

Enjoy the drama and be glad you have a normal life.

A few weeks back I agreed to shoot with a photographer on Model Mayhem. His work with natural light impressed me. We sent a few messages, looked at each others profiles, and talked on the phone for a second. I had to cancel at the last minute in true Angelino fashion. It is possible that in my haste I said something like “yea yea the 29th is perfect – see you then” but I didn’t mark it on my calendar. I though I was taking the 29th off. It was the first day in a series of many where I wasn’t doing something so I was pretty excited to have noting on my schedule. Horary, a day off.

I was about to commit to a 4:30 yoga class when the phone rang and it was this photographer confirming our 4:00 shoot. “oops I totally forgot” I said to him, no big deal “I happen to have the day free – I see you then. WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO WEAR?” I asked him? “Oh wear whatever you want – however you want to be represented … I have no preference.”

I blew off yoga and headed to echo park lake with my girlfriend. We had previously discussed my love of fetish fashion, costumes, and transsexuals. He approached me initially. Needlesss to say that when he turned his nose up at the two of us (who were looking pretty fucking hot) I was somewhat unsure of how to respond. I’m not used to people suggesting that they are unimpressed with my attire. I was certainly camera ready, as was Lorelei. “Is she gonna be in the pictures?” he asked me. “That was the plan” I said.

After an initial few minutes of bumbling around we decided to shoot in front of the church that is across from the lake. When I suggested that we go into the park he started to huff and began blabbering “the park is too boring, we can come back when it is dimmer” Then he suggested we go for a ride in his car.

“I don’t just hop into cars of strange men.” I pointed out that jumping into a car of a stranger was a bad idea for anyone let alone someone dressed in a tight shiny corset and high heels. He asked me to sit in the street. I tried explaining the difficulty of sitting all the way down in this boned beast but he just kept insisting that I could and should sit in the street. I fell straight over for dramatic effect and to demonstrate just how inflexible my outfit really is.

I did bang my head when I hit the ground but he shut the fuck up and started shooting. Then he pulled me aside and asked me “can you ask him to move so he is not in the frame?” “He who” I said looking around. “My girlfriend is a she” “Oh … blab la bla …” he mumbled. What a fucking dick! I already hated him but we had agreed to come out here to shoot and since some of my best photos were shot by people I can’t stand I decided that we were going to shoot.

He wanted to go to some staircase. “It’s right here at the corner of Sunset and Echo Park” He assured me. We started walking. “Oh are these for sale?” he asked me of the woman selling fruit and cactus. “Ya” I said, somewhat bewildered. “Lets’ get you buying some thing” and he proceeded to try and shoot the woman and me engaging in a transaction when there was none happening. “So let’s buy something” I said looking at him. This is his bright idea so he hands me two bucks and as I buy a small thing of fruit he starts shooting her. She is an old south American woman who is obviously not interested in being photographed by this middle aged white man. He starts telling her (and everyone else) that I am a famous movie star. WTF? I’m thinking.

She starts asking him for money. Shit, she being photographed with a famous movie star against her will. I tell him to give her some money for her time, she obviously needs it. When he opens his wallet I think “well at least he is gonna give her something. At least he isn’t a total dick. I hope he doesn’t cheap out.” He looks through a stack of bills and says he doesn’t have anything small enough. He goes to hand her the change in his pocket like she is some kind of beggar and I almost died. I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO EMBARASED IN MY WHOLE LIFE. I wanted to curl up and die. My heart broke for this woman who was now being straight insulted by this man. This white man so infatuated with echo park that he felt completely entitled to come into her neighborhood and shoot her. WTF?

I pulled out my wallet and handed her a ten. Take it I insisted. She did. I thanked her for the fruit and her time. I looked at him and said “don’t insult her with your change. Why in the hell do you think you can come into her neighborhood and shoot her without asking, without compensating, and then you tell them I’m a famous movie star. Seriously uncool man. I take the bus in this neighborhood. I’m a little famous but I don’t need them hating on me thinking I am some insulting white girl. Why do you think you can come to the ‘ethnic’ part of town and act like this?” He had nothing to say.

There are many many reasons why people in LA don’t want their picture taken. She is just trying to support her family, not become your model you self righteous white man from Van Nuys.

The shoot only got more exhausting from there. He had us hike way the fuck up into the hills of echo park. It would have been fine if we had been dressed for the occasion. When we got up there he took all my stuff and threw it around saying “we’ll just put this in the background.” Maybe he took a few pictures but what a drag it was to shoot with this dude.

He was discriminatory, degrading, rude, insensitive to other people and their culture, and misogynistic. I’m glad I did not invite this guy to my dungeon or my home. I’m glad the shoot is over. but most of all I’m glad I don’t have to see him at the water cooler every day. I don’t now how people put up with each other.

A Person Is Not A Prop!