Archive for Psyche & Sexuality

My Mask Reveals (Transmuting Miss Van)

Posted in Art & Culture, Art Lover, Fur Reals, Goof & Glamour, I Heart Shaman*Art, Lipstick Shamaness, Psyche & Sexuality, punk rock, Sexuality, SPOOKY KABUKI with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 6, 2010 by alphabetfiend

Personally, I like masks year ’round and have been known to don a mask & a tight-as-fuck punk tee for a regular (tho rockin’) night out. However, most humans deem Halloween (& Carnivale) to be the only “appropriate” times to don a mask. For freaks like me, October (& February) are nice times to stock up. 

I never expected to be the tattooed lady — even made it through my 20’s with just one bottle-cap crown — but then I fell in love with the Spanish/French graffiti artist Miss Van. By a stroke of kismet, I met Tina Forever, a gifted tattoo artist capable of transmuting the Miss Van magic. Now I say that my body is an inky Parisian alleyway. I regret that I don’t have more flesh to commit to inky renderings of Miss Van’s masked darlings. Every time I turn around, I’m falling in love with another one and wondering where on my body, she might feel at home.

The Bitchenest Pin-up Ever Passes at 85

Posted in Fame & Celebrity, punk rock with tags , , , , , , , on December 12, 2008 by alphabetfiend

Bettie Page brought sexy back way before that boy band singer! Why, she was actually sexy.

What a sexy bitch…. she’ll be missed.

bettie_page3

Bettie Page died in LA after a 3 week bout with pneumonia. She was due to be released when she suffered a fatal heart attack. She was 85.

The International Herarld Tribune reported on Page’s life & death.

In her trademark raven bangs, spike heels and killer curves, Page was the most famous pinup girl of the post-World War II era, a centerfold on a million locker doors and garage walls. She was also a major influence in the fashion industry and a target of Senator Estes Kefauver’s anti-pornography investigators.

She was also a beloved figure to us punk-rock & rockabilly scene-queens… we will always love her and our smoky clubs will always be filled with young ingenues looking to spice up their look with Bettie Page bangs. (For proof of how Page has influenced hipster haircuts since the 90’s check out Janeane Garofalo in this Reality Bites clip.)

bettie_page_1

Bettie Page will live on in our hearts and our spank-banks forever. (Punk) Rock on!

Pose in Peace.

Real Dolls: Kinkster Deluxe for the Loaded & Lonesome (XXX)

Posted in I like big butts & I can not lie, Psyche & Sexuality, Sex & XXX, SPOOKY KABUKI, TV with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 26, 2008 by alphabetfiend

“I am doll eyes
Doll mouth, doll legs
I am doll arms, big veins, dog bait.”
— Hole

Wendsday night’s episode of CSI New York — “Sex, Lies & Silicone” — involved a plot line about the Real Doll phenomenon. I don’t normally watch CSI but when I saw this trailer, I had my Ro-beau punch a few buttons on the tevo. 

If you’re out of the lurid loop, Real Dolls are eerily “realistic” life-size love dolls. Has Kelly Lebrock been in your spank bank since you were a pimply kid in the 80’s? Ever since you rented Wierd Science? Get you a slotted-piggy and start saving up. Well-to-do deviants can skip the piggy and go straight to  RealDoll.com  They can create their ideal woman as though they were Gary and Wyatt.  (I LOVED Wierd Science and can still quote Gary and Wyatt. Which may explain my obscene interest in this mad scientist insanity.)

This is not your horn-dog Uncle’s blow up doll. Real Dolls are high end silicone sex dolls with three fancy orifices. A Real Doll is the “Ferrari of love dolls, ” says Matt Krivicke, Creative Director of Abyss Creations.”It’s the most expensive highest quality love doll on the market.” If yer gonna pony up 7 grand for a poseable pin-up, you gotta do more than press your lips around the rubber valve and blow. You’ll need to make some tough choices.

At the Real Doll Web site you can choose among nine body types, 14 faces, five skin tones, six eye colors, a palette of makeup colors, 10 wigs, and three different pubic hair styles. Save your pennies, and for $6,499 plus shipping, you can have your very own synthetic woman sent directly to your home. (Salon.com)

Talk about some Bride of Frankenstein freaky-deek DELUX!

Um, lady, yer not planning on using that on me are you?

Serious afficonados of this luxury item– ” idollators” — often have a whole harem of faux femmes. Which is surely less complicated than having even one real girl.  

What kind of wierdo creepazoid would shell out dollars for a doll with a dick hole? The answer to that is all over the board. Even veering dangerously close to home.

Flinch at the notion of a man having sex with an imitation woman and classify him: lonely loser. Pathological creep. Misogynist. Potential rapist. Sicko. True enough, some men who have sex with Real Dolls are creepy, the kind of guys you wouldn’t want to be alone with. But not all. Many are simply lonely — some tragically so. Others are disfigured or infirm. Some are oddly sweet, like Davecat, for whom a Real Doll is a “teddy bear with benefits.” And others proclaim their normalcy and defend their Real Dolls as no different than a 3-D version of a Playboy centerfold. (Salon)

Hey, I know, let’s ask one of them c-zoids. This guy makes the case for Real Dolls, while also making your stomach lurch.

The Robot says Real Dolls are too bizarre to not want one. “If I was rich, I’d buy you one for your birfday, baby,” he once promised, which riled until he revealed his ace: they are available in magically delicious skin colors like alien green or sci-fi lavender. Oh hell yea! I’d sully that cartoon wench like nobody’s biz-ness. Which I suspect is the REAL reason why the Robot is keen on the idea of bringing a Real Doll home. (To the extent that he actually is. Which isn’t much, not 7 G’s much.)

I’m about to give details above and beyond TMI so if your easily offended, skip ahead. 

OK, here goes… 

Years ago I had this yummy dream where I was wearing a cartoonish strap-on dildo on the outside of my jeans, as like an accessory, to go with my thug-rolled dungarees & wife-beater tank. Until that dream I thought Freud’s penis envy was total bullshit. But goof knows I love to accessorize! I’ve wanted a strap-on ever since. I began to hint around and swore that I only wanted it as like a lewd jewel, to wear underneath a flouncy girl-bomb dress. A naughty secret stolen in a petticoat, tucked into frothy layers of tulle. I wanna frock out with my cock out!  He began to hint around that maybe he’d let me do more with my new toy. Yea, I know you, and you’ll end up wanting to ass rape me, which might be OK.  RB found a harness in pale pink leather — it’ll match yer Plush D afro! — and picked out a springy fleshy dong in translucent pink. When it arrived in the mail, it wasn’t as petite as he’d hoped. As I began to cock-strut around the house, lines of worry furrowed into his forehead. Yay! I wanna stick it in things!  Which is where a blue-skinned babe like trickster Krishna would come in damn handy. And no, don’t bother emailing saying you know just the gal-pal for me, cause I can’t cheat, not even with girls. I just don’t have the temperament for it.

In all honesty, I’d never spend 7000 bucks on a squishy hole when there’s other things to spring for: fingerless Chanel gloves, flouncy Miu Miu dresses, Anna Sui Kimonos, Phillip Treacy hats, Marc Jacobs platform pumps. Aaaaaahhhhh, mmmmmm. An ice cream trunk, a lazy hazy trip to Amsterdam, a steampunk laptop!  Oh oh oh YES! Besides, lube is cheap and men can be manipulated. I mean, men have open minds. Especially when it comes to all things bedroom.

With only 9 body types, I doubt they’d have the fleshy bouncy bottom of my lezbo dreams. If I’m gonna go gay, I want a big ‘ole booty that I can go to town on like I’m Tinto Brass on acid. A tiny Barbie bum is a serious deal-breaker.  And I’m not the only one for whom junk in the trunk is a concern. Check out this informational video about the Real Doll factory. Watch as Big C sez “I like big butts and I cannot not lie.” Or something to that affect.

Awww, what a happy ending, so sweet. Big C sweeps big-booty Judy off her feet. But was her booty really that big? Size 6 big just ain’t BIG enough for me!

“I am doll parts
Bad skin, doll heart
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do
He only loves those things because he loves to see them break
I fake it so real, I am beyond fake”
— Hole

So, how creepy was this post? Man oh man, are you gonna have some weird (wet) dreams tonight! SPOOKY KABUKI strikes again!

Showtime’s Californication Makes My Brain & Girl-bits Tumescent

Posted in Alphabetfiend, Books & Writing, Psyche & Sexuality, Sex & XXX, TV with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 15, 2008 by alphabetfiend

I’m madly in love with Showtime’s “Californication, ” especially this new season. It’s one of the only shows where the writer character actually ACTS and TALKS like a writer. I feel so comfy when I’m watching it. Like I’m hanging out with my Precocious Dandy and we’re chain smoking and talking a mile a minute; flexing our verbiage muscles and screaming bits of poetry into one another’s besotted faces. I feel like my truest self getting all giggety when the word “tumescent” makes an appearance in tawdry dirty talk. Which is to say that I feel like a word nerd, an asshole, an arrogant bastard, a brainy ego-maniac, a cerebral kinkster — A WRITER.

Californication-Season-1

I buy Duchovny as the the disillusioned writer Hank Moody. He makes it work. He slings his words and he slings his cock with writerly strangeness. I could eat it up with a coke spoon! Yum. Hell, I’d snort this sucker up. It’s that damn delicious. I was a fan of Duchovny’s Fox Mulder: porn watching, sunflower seed munching insomniac FBI agent with a wide open mind. He was a FOX and very foxy, very trickster: one foot in this world, one foot in another; brilliant, inappropriate, creating through chaos. He brings all that to this role which I wasn’t sure about at first but it works. He’s Hank Moody now, not Fox Mulder. But the fox is still in there somewhere. Still full of sly tricks. I’ve been working on a longer review/ode to Warren Zevon. Someone working on Californication is a Warren Zevon fan… I wonder who it is? Again, very writerly. Zevon was a writer’s rocker. But I had to post this today because I’m just giddy over this new season. This is a show for smarties — crossword puzzle fans & other word nerds, writers, fuckers, freaks with tumescent cerebrums.

tu·mes·cent 

adj.

1. Somewhat tumid.
2. Becoming swollen; swelling
Trixie: It’s hardly cheating.
Hank: I’m pretty sure it is.
Trixie: Maybe you’re right. Sometimes my whore logic gets all fucked up. But I can tell you that there’s a lot of husbands and boyfriends out there who would not file that under cheating.
Hank: Well, call me an old fuddy-duddy but I think anytime the tumescent head makes an appearance, it’s cheating
Trixie: Is that good dirty talk, like if I said to a client “You’re so fucking tumescent right now” would that be hot?
Hank: Mmmm. Makes my wiener feel a little weird, but that’s just me — I like WORDS.

The scene I love, the scene above, is about one minute and 50 seconds in. Mmmm. Makes my girly parts a bit engorged. Which reminds me: if you don’t like words and I mean ALL words, good and bad, then this show (and this blog) are not for you. You must appreciate the value of an f-bomb if you watch Californication. (Oh how I miss Deadwood… sigh. Talk about a work of wordy genius. All you brainy cocksuckers who’ve never seen Deadwood run out and rent it ASAP.)

**Tried to find a clean clip without this murder-worthy ad banner but no luck. Sorry about that.**

%d bloggers like this: