Versatile Blogger Award

Whoa, I’ve been nominated for another award, the Versatile Blogger Award, by

Liquid Matthew’s Development Blog .

Thanks so much! I’m enjoying reading your blog and erotica.

Okay, I believe how this one works is to list seven interesting things about yourself:

Hmm, what haven’t I already said?

1. I restore classic cars and trucks. When I can — it’s an expensive hobby, and I’m filthy rich… just not financially.

2. I hear music everywhere. Just now, while trying to think of things to type, I started absent mindedly tapping in time to the fluctuations of our heater.

3. My favorite sport to watch is football.

4. I play chess.

5. I collect playing cards. Not for their monetary value, I just like them. People realized it, and started giving me decks from vacations, or with unusual artwork. I just don’t feel right without a deck in my backpack, purse, coat, whatever.

6. My favorite word is “fuck”.

7. I don’t wear clothes unless I have to — either to avoid “indecent exposure” laws, or due to extreme cold.

 And to nominate people:

mysexlifewithlola — for the delightful exploits of the lovely Lola, and for your philosophical manner

“Pretty Primal”  — for so wonderfully expressing your thoughts and emotions, and for your great pictures — for your sense of humor, and insightful social commentary

And, finally, to go let them know… which I’m off to do just as soon as I post this.


Show And Tell

“In another dimension
With voyeuristic intention.
Well secluded, I see all…” — Magenta, Time Warp. From The Rocky Horror Picture Show

I had promised H.H. quite a while ago that I would post more pictures of myself. Between writing, fucking, and life becoming a little more hectic than anticipated for a while, it has taken me a little longer than expected to pay up. Here, now, is the promised post. I have to be a little selective with the pictures for the time being. I don’t have photoshop (though I’m working on it, for cropping purposes), so what you see is what you get.  Consequently, that also means no photos of my face, nor any that would reveal close to my exact location.

That being said, in the past, Bear has kindly edited photos for me to put on facebook, while upholding their “no nudity” policy. I imagine he might be persuaded to do so again, if I ask nicely: “Please, Bear? Pretty please, with my man-killer skirt on top?”

Without further ado, here is more, yet not all of me:

I LOVE this photo! It was taken in low light, with me lying on a piece of red velvet fabric.

I LOVE this photo! It was taken in low light, with me lying on a piece of red velvet fabric.

I'm such a cum slut. I also love playing poker, as some will deduce from two separate objects in the background.  It's invariably met with amused condescension  -- until I start raking in everyone else's money. Men are so cute!

I’m such a cum slut. I also love playing poker, as some will deduce from two separate objects in the background. It’s invariably met with amused condescension — until I start raking in everyone else’s money. Men are so cute!

Shadow thinks the heart looks kind of like an arrow pointing down -- I hope so, it's where I want people to head to.

Shadow thinks the heart looks kind of like an arrow pointing down — I hope so, it’s where I want people to head to.

Yes, more fishnets...

Yes, more fishnets…

...and more. What can I say? They're my favorite thing to wear... when I have to wear anything.

…and more. What can I say? They’re my favorite thing to wear… when I have to wear anything.

That’s all for now. Hope you all enjoyed the show. 😉

Strap-Ons, and Lagers, and Bears — Oh, my!

Sorry for the long delay… again. I realize, I just posted recently, but before that it had been a while. Here’s what’s been going on:

Puck, Shadow, and I finally managed to move. We didn’t go far, not the 1,000 miles + that we’re planning on for the future. We’re still in the same town we lived in before, the same neighborhood in fact. However, our new place is much nicer, bigger, and more suited to our needs than the old one. There have been a few interesting encounters since living here, hopefully nothing to fret about. Our greatest desire in moving was to be free of the drama that ensued in the old building where we lived. Alas, it seems the universe has given us a bit of drama here,as well. It’s not nearly as bad, nor as all-encompassing as at the old place — so we shall see. Hopefully, all will blow over soon.

We moved over Christmas and the surrounding days — which didn’t alarm us terribly, as it’s not a day when the whole world stops in our household. It was a nice gift of the season, though.

I am still having mystery symptoms — and making more appointments in an attempt to discover exactly what is going on and rectify it.

Shadow and I have had colds, I had a stomach virus, and Puck has sporadically had a sniffle.

We didn’t have internet for about two weeks after we moved in, and we’re still all attempting to get caught up.

We had a friend who went through a bad break-up, to put it mildly, and are trying to assist how we can.

We wound up inheriting a small amount of free beer, which was a lovely surprise.

I have a delightful new lover, let’s call him Bear: He was friends with Shadow, now he is a friend of Pucks, as well. His holiday presents to me included sex toys and erotic attire — including a beautiful strap-on.

Puck has a new lover as well. Also he renewed a sexual relationship with someone who is always his and my friend, sometimes his friend with benefits, and sometimes his girlfriend. At the moment I believe they are in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. Her nickname will be GG — short for Gamer Girl. Normally, I can’t stay friends with women for long. Don’t get me wrong: I love women. I lust women. They are beautiful, intelligent, kind, heart-warming, and fierce creatures. They are also frightening. Especially when enraged, jealous, or involved in drama. It speaks volumes that GG and I have been friends for years. GG is also friends with Bear — something we did not discover until recently.

I’ll try to post information soon  about Bear, GG, and a few other people I suspect I’ll mention over the course of blogging on the Who’s On First page. So check back there over the next few days to a week, if you’re curious.

And Puck got a new cell phone. I mention this only because it has a higher intelligence quotient than Puck, Shadow, and I combined. And yet. Somehow, it can not seem to read the white text that I now publish my posts in. So the text color may need to get changed again, which is a shame, because otherwise, it’s been working well. Or perhaps I can set up a mobile version, with different colors. We shall see.

Liebster Blog Award

I have been nominated for the Liebster blog award. Thank you, so much,  for nominating me. I love reading your blog.

The rules:

You do not talk about the Liebster Award.

You don not talk about the Liebster Award.

Oh, and:

1. Each person must post 11 things about themselves.
2.Answer the questions that the tagger set for you plus create 11 questions for the people you’ve tagged to answer.
3. Choose 11 people and link them in your post.
4. Go to their page and tell them.
5. No tag backs!

I’m going to try to say stuff I haven’t mentioned on here before. Consequently, the eleven things about myself might be a little boring:

1. I’m allergic to iron.

2. I knit.

3. I play poker.

4. I play bass.

5. My favorite poet is Walt Whitman.

6. I need to live near water.

7. I love camping.

8. I’m a pain slut! 😉

9. I met John Nash (a pretty impressive mathematician). Yes, I know — I’m a geek. Duly noted. So, baby, maybe sometime your knight and my rogue could have a few at the inn?

10.I’m predominantly left-handed, but functionally ambi-dexterous.

11. I’m a writer. Obviously, from the blog. But I also write fiction, essays, poetry, articles, and am working on a few novels.

The questions I was asked, and my answers are:

  1. What is your favorite color and why? Black. I find it to be the most beautiful color. It represents all that I am and love: Shadows, nighttime, the depths of forests and the sea, the color of the clothes I’ve worn for most of my life, mystery, magick. Raven’s wings, a panther’s fur, a lake in moonlight, the velvet roof behind the stars, and the darkness inside orifices used for sexual fulfillment.
  2. What would be your favorite holiday destination if money was no object, and why? Tara, the Hill of Kings, in Ireland — for Beltane. I’d love to stand where my ancestors stood and watch the glory of this world from that vantage point on the most sexual day of the year.
  3. If you’re a Dom or a Sub, would you ever switch? I am a switch, so yes. 🙂 If I absolutely HAD to choose dominance or submission for the rest of my life, I would choose dominance.
  4. What’s your favorite literary genre? It’s a toss-up between fantasy and general nineteenth century literature.
  5. Monogamy or open relationships? Why? Open relationships. But I wouldn’t recommend them for everyone, any more than I’d recommend monogamy for me. Because I need to have a lot of sex, and Puck needs to have a lot of people to love. Because it’s difficult to have all of your preferences met by one person when you’re pansexual. Because I’m in love with several people who also love me. Because I’m in lust with even more people… who are also in lust with me. Because I love to flirt — and flirting leads to forking.
  6. Is there anything that would be an absolute deal-breaker in a relationship for you? Yes. I do not cheat, nor do I assist others in cheating. Also, if Puck or Shadow veto anyone, for any reason — or no reason — it is the same as if I had vetoed them. People who refuse to use protection don’t get to sleep with me.  Finally, drama: a little dram isn’t a deal-breaker. Shit happens — no exceptions. But I’ve dumped people because they, and their lives were all drama, all the time.
  7. Would you ever go on a blind date? (or have you been on one?) I’ve been on them, and I’d go again. So far, I’ve clicked much better with people I’ve met on my own than people I’ve been set up with.
  8. Have you ever faked an orgasm?  If yes, why? Of  course I’ve faked orgasms!  These days I usually don’t — in keeping with my determined honesty, my desire to have sex easily accessible and understood for all, and the fact that I’m a selfish bitch. When I did fake them, it was usually to: a) avoid wounding their egos, b) to boost their self-esteem, or c) to stop whatever cussedly uncomfortable, all-thumbs thing they were doing. Word to the wise, it helps if your sex partners are musicians. There are at least ten good things to be said for fine motor coordination. Mechanics aren’t bad, either.
  9. Have you ever had a ‘friend with benefits’? What’s a friend without benefits? 😉
  10. If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? Semen. No, seriously.
  11. What’s your favorite erotica theme/genre? Kinky and primal — with lots of biting, scratching, etc. Preferably with anal and blood play, as well.

Since not all the people I’m nominating are kinky — or if they are, I unfortunately don’t know about it — I tried to keep the questions I’m asking Vanilla rated. I think I even managed to limit myself to one sex question! My questions are:

1. What’s your favorite book?

2. Your favorite song?

3. Piece of visual art?

4. What’s your favorite quote?

5. What’s your favorite sex toy?

I know “favorites” questions are hard. Either one of your favorites, or rattling of a few works if you can’t limit yourself to just one — I know I seldom can.

6. What do you think the meaning of life is? 42 is a well reasoned, but unacceptable reply. 🙂

7. What would your perfect day be?

8. What’s your dream career?

9. What’s something you want to do before you die?

10. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

11. What is your best quality?

And my nominees, in no particular order, aside from a vague attempt to keep similar subject matters grouped together, are:

The kinky:


A Faded Romantic’s Notebook — for painting with words, and expressing such moving insights on life.

2.  for so eloquently expressing a primal nature, and mixing sexuality with poetry.


thekinkyworldofvile — for telling it like it is, and giving useful information.

The artists, visual and verbal:


Expressions of my life – An evolution of art. — for the beauty of your art, and the optimism and grace of your words.


Urban Wall Art & Murals — for your unique and inspiring artwork, and your determination to have visual art publicly accessible.


Cristian Mihai — for your exquisite words, and your helpful advice on the writing profession.

The hilarious:


kyle mew — for your dry sense of humor, and for being a delightful flirt.


Piss and Vinegar — for your wickedly humorous rants, and your explosive fits of righteous indignation.

The self-improvement gurus:


My Struggle – Losing 400 pounds — for the power of your story, and your desire to help others along their way.


Random Moments of Epiphany — for your spirituality, and the lens of music, through which you view the world.

The Chaotic Neutral:


courtwideupdatesfromrajetofthephae — for your sense of fun, and your adeptness at inserting whimsy into serious commentary.

Three things: First, I had a ridiculously difficult time narrowing it down to just eleven nominees. I genuinely wish I could list everyone in my reader. Of course, that would be a very long post, indeed.

Second, my loose grouping of subjects is just that. Several kinky people could also fit into the artists category, and most of them could be classified as self-improvement gurus.

Finally, in case anyone sees fit to cry, “foul!” — since I am, in fact sleeping with three of the people I nominated… rest assured, I would read their blogs even if we were not intimate.

Life In The Trenches

I apologize the long delay — more on that in a post yet to come. In the meantime, here it is: the first post about a counter-culture life. Not that kinky sex and open relationships aren’t against the grain, but it all adds to the greater whole of who I am.

In my world. a trench coat is as identifiable and unique as it’s owner. They’re dusters, technically, not trench coats. But it doesn’t matter. Normally, I am all for accuracy in labeling — but sometimes words take on an entirely separate meaning than their true definition. This is one of those situations. Not that everyone wears the same style of coat — you”ll see biker jackets, cloaks, dressy black blazers. But mostly they are long, draping things that sweep across the floor and blow in the wind. Think of Neo’s coat in the Matrix… except we were doing it before breakthrough blockbuster movies put a face to the wardrobe. They are decorated with buttons, straps, safety pins, buckles, band patches, fabric paint. They are ripped, worn, or brand, sparklingly, new. They are on the backs of baby bats — barely pubescent children who this world has made into accidental adults, just starting their forays into black clothes and staying up late…. playing haunting melodies to the midnight air. They are worn by teenagers, glowering at the open stares of those who view them. They are worn by people my age, smiling at the people with meet, asking how they are, wishing them a good day… grinning when our greetings are responded to with warmth, mentally shrugging when they are answered with coldness and fear. Those older than I carry these second skins so easily, so casually, there is never a question as to whether or not they belong in them: elegant women in lush velvet cloaks, who would put Morticia to shame; honor-bound metalhead men in short leather jackets, lined with padding.

There is always a proprietary tone when speaking of some of one’s belongings. It’s not merely, “My coat… my  boots,” but, “My coat… my boots.” There is an understanding that these objects have not only function, but character. Personality, even.

I live in a monotone world. Everything is black — or white… which makes it all more than a little gray. I know at least twenty ways to apply make-up that is all one color. I live in a world where guitars have names.

Black boots — combat boots, Corcorans, Doc Martens, jump boots, thigh-highs, Dominatrix-style boots,Victorian ankle booties — tap out  rhythmic patterns: drum beats, strum patterns, harmonizing notes, lead lines. They pound out the heartbeats of our music, of our lives — on the asphalt, in the dirt, one the sidewalks, the sticky floors of bars, the slick floors of clubs, the carpets of our houses, wood planks of theaters.

I own my coat, my boots, my backpack, my fishnets…. but they also own me. Over the years, they’ve held my body, yes, and other things. They’ve cradled cigarettes, CD’s   whiskey, weed, music players, and music makers; journals, judgments, condoms, condiments, make-up, mittens, strings, cell phones,  pens and panties. They’ve held faith, courage, warmth, and lust. They have held love.

All that, and it’s not even about the coat. But you can’t understand what it really is without understanding what it looks like. What it looks like is wrong. What it appears to be is a perceptual error –a consensual reality illusion.

No it’s not about the coat. The clothes and the color protect and defend. They are midnight armor, shielding us from the world, from society, elements, and ourselves. But at the same time that they keep us safe, they show exactly who we are: we are not hiding. We merely seem distorted, but it is the way of shadows. The dark reflection of an object seems larger, blurrier, and more frightening in direct response the light that interacts with it.

This is not to say that mainstream society is purely the light and counter-culture is purely darkness. Once, I thought that. Once, I thought many things. But I have come to realize things are rarely as cut and dry as that. It is not even a judgement call on dark or light being better. They are opposites, they stand alone, and as such, they give each other shape, form, substance.

Mainstream society did not get its name from itself. It got it from us. Freaks did not get their name from themselves. They got it from the mainstream world.

What it IS about is life. A true life. A life lived unflinchingly, even when one is afraid. What it’s about is an emotional undercurrent. It’s about the music that lies beneath it all. The melody of our actions, the rhythms of  our lives, the lead lines of our choices, the bass notes of our thoughts, the lyrics of our emotions, the harmony of our interactions in community, the discord of being a symbol… and the resolving note of realizing it make look different — but it is all one and the same.

Do I look like a freak? Do you look normal? Because I think you and I look exactly the same.



noun \ˈbich\

Definition of BITCH
: the female of the dog or some other carnivorous mammals
a: a lewd or immoral womanb: a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman —sometimes used as a generalized term of abuse
: something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant
— From the Merriam-Webster Dictionary
An old joke proclaims, “You know you’re kinky if someone calls your wife a slut and you consider it a compliment.” You can tell from the title of my blog that is a word I take as a compliment. There are so many words I take as a compliment that are not usually intended to be so: slut, crazy, freak, non-conformist, and, of course, bitch.  People who know  me well and share my system of morality call me those things as a true compliment. They are a description of my actions, my behaviors, my priorities, and of where I fit in the world.
I think is too easy to take offense at words. We get offended either because we can feel that the words were intended as an insult, or because of what a word has come to mean, or occasionally, because of what a word really does  mean. 
But we can take time to stop and think. We can change our perspective. We can choose how we define ourselves and how we choose to relate to the words others use to define us. 
For example: In addition to dogs, female wolves are also called bitches — including the mate of the Alpha. They are loyal, brave, capable, skilled, and protective. They are both strong and nurturing. They know their place in the world. They can lead, and they can also submit to their mates.
All of those words describe me, as well. And yet, a word that describes such beautiful, wonderful creatures is tossed about as an attack.
So next time someone insults you, think about it. Consider whether or not the attributes ascribed to you are really worth getting upset about. If what you are called is true and you dislike it, then change yourself to become who you wish to be. But if it is true, and something you enjoy about yourself — take pride in it. Turn the entire world upside down if you need to, but don’t be ashamed of who you are.
Take it from a bitch. 😉
             With wildness,
                       Leanan Sidhe

Are We Dead Yet?

Or enlightened? Or…whatever.

I’m getting mightily tired of hearing bout all the dates in 2012 when something big is supposed to happen. Most of those dates have passed, and I don’t know about you, but I’m still here.

BUT we’ve still got the big one. What is? December, 21st, 2012. I’ve heard it called the end of the Mayan calendar, the end of the world, the Rapture, Armageddon, the Apocalypse, the Ascension, the birth of the world, the enlightenment of humanity, the evolution of consciousness, the starting date of the New World Order. Silly, witchy me — I just call it the Winter Solstice.

And I really think someone should give a heads up to Israel, Gaza, all of the Middle East, and most of the United States of America, for that matter. Everyone was so busy meditating and/or praying that they forget to send them all a memo.

Don’t get me wrong. I believe the world is changing. I believe humanity is finally starting to grow up in a real big hurry. I mean, when you destroy your house and shoot up all your neighbors, eventually you’re going to have to learn how to a) build and b) take care of yourself.

I think we can make positive changes before it’s too late for civilization as we know it. But I emphatically do not  believe that at the end of the year, there is going to be an opening of scrolls, a disappearance of vast numbers of humanity, spontaneous glowing or blinking into the ether on the part of the masses.

And yet, I think there may be a reason for all these synchronicities of dates and prophecies. There may be a greater purpose to all the alleged things that are supposed to happen. Some people are terrified, or merely reminding themselves and others to behave. Other people have a reason for hope, something to look forward to. Let us hope that going towards the light, does not involve a train.

So I’ll humor them if you’ll kindly humor me.

Okay, in less than one month, the world is either going to end, or it will change so drastically for the better that it will no longer be recognizable to us. Now what? No, I’m serious. Because  I think that notion may be the true purpose.

Where are you? What are you doing? Are you where you most want to be, doing what you most love to do? Bonus points for everyone who stopped reading mid-sentence and signed up for sky diving lessons, hugged their kids, went out for a walk, cracked open a beer at eight in the morning, or had sex with their spouse. And bonus points for me, because even though I can get caught up in the drama of consensual reality as easily as everyone else; right now, right here, I stayed in front of my computer and kept writing — which right now, right here, working on the assumption that we have less than a month to live how we are used to… is EXACTLY what I want to do.

Later, I’ll have sex with both my spouses. I’ll give my mom a huge hug when she comes over to visit. I’ll pet our cats. Maybe I’ll go sit on the beach, or listen to music.

I’ll keep working on the things I want to change about how I am living, because I know what things I’m happy with. I also know what things I DON’T want going on in my life when I die.

Often, when people are diagnosed with a terminal illness, that is when they truly start to live.

Now, I don’t believe that we are all going to die on December 21st, 2012. I don’t even believe that life as we know it is going to change radically in a day. I doubt you believe it  either.

So, I’m done humoring. You’re probably not going to die this month. The question is: How would you be living if you knew you were dying?