creeper

I often feel like the creepy guy in the corner jerking off.

How did I get here? (This is not my beautiful wife, this is not my beautiful house…) Do they notice I am here? I feel different, and that sometimes socially isolates me. I oogle at the other burlesque dancers. Beauties, pure delight, smooth skin, perfect shapes and proportion. The best asses in town topped with the sweetest personalities around. They are all anybody’s definition of physical perfection. I’d eat from their shoes.

wayne and garth

I constantly feel the need to yell “I AM NOT WORTHY!” like Wayne and Garth at the feet of rockstars. In awe of my surroundings.  My life is truly blessed.

 

dominatrix burlesque

Look deeper, listen to them talk and laugh, spill about their own insecurities and bullshit. These people that I idolize, hold with such a high standard, are at the end of the day just normal people who poop and bleed, putting their tassels on one at a time like everyone else.

We are all humans: “beautiful” and “ugly” are relative, we all see a different monster when we look in the mirror. Everyone is so preoccupied with their own flaws that they cease to even notice yours. That is why caring about what others think of you is really stupid, we need to take care of ourselves and not give in.

sexy freaks

Wish I was faster and less depressed by others’ happiness. I am a lump covered in strange skin lesions, I am fat, I am smelly, I have hairy armpits, and an inch of roots on my bleached out hair. I am nothing like these visions of glory, I am a slob, a festering pile of yuck.

I AM BEAUTIFUL! 

trollKnow that because we are not perfect we inspire others who are not perfect to love themselves too. It is a responsibility to show the world that no matter what you look like you have the right to be accepted and celebrated.

You too can lead a glorious existence! I remember once saying “I am a troll” out loud, and I was literally dressing up like a goon. Dumb. Why do I even care about what society likes? Life is a freakshow attraction. People like me regardless of how well I play by the rules, the art outside the lines is impactful.

Fun fact, did you know there is a thing called soaking? It is when you insert the penis into the vagina and just let it chill. It hangs out until it cums, no thrusting necessary.

That sounds pointless. Literally just getting your dick wet doesn’t sound remotely enjoyable. Its like what happens when a gay man and a lesbian try to make a baby, are we there yet? I told you we should have used a turkey baster.

I always thought it would be funny to have like 10 butch lesbians with turkey basters full of jizz squirting them all on one guy, lesbukkake anyone? Let’s turn those tables. Break down hetero-normativity in every single way. I am a squirter, so it definitely feels powerful to get to jizz on someone, I get it.

I am going to be thirty this year, dirty thirty, that means my egg timer is almost up and I should be looking for a good god fearing white man of similar or hopefully higher socioeconomic status to make mutant republican babies with and move to the suburbs where my dreams can rot in a three bedroom ranch.

I want to spend my dirty thirty with thirty of my most down ass friends covered in shit. Literal feces. It will be the dirtiest party of them all. I am already borderline incontinent, last night I drunkenly peed on my feet while trying to relieve myself in an ally.

I held a frozen burrito under my arm, being denied bathroom access at the store I took it upon myself to wash their sidewalk with a flood of golden glory. Never going to top drunkenly peeing on church steps and not getting laid because I totally didn’t wipe though. That takes the cake. Chocolate cake brown like the shit stains in my Zubaz.

animal house

I am a creep, watching women undress in front of me, feeling like I shouldn’t be allowed there. That’s how I feel when people show me affection, I can’t believe this vision of loveliness wants ME?! You sure you got the right guy?

I watch from a distance while other people get off. I have sat in my car and watched people fuck with an open window. I once sat on a roof overlooking an office building and watched a guy jerk off at 2am. Photos of his family were hung on the walls. I still wonder what kind of kinky shit he was watching. I’m sure it was the gayest scat fisting gang bang porn imaginable.

alphaeus-philemon-cole-peeping-tom

Peeping Toms and shower windows make a great pair. I was recently sitting on my friend’s porch, drinking beers, smoking some jazz cigarettes, shooting the shit, sun setting, ya know stoop life at its finest. And all of a sudden I look up and notice a frosted window on the second floor of the house next to us with a light on.

Suddenly one shadow appears, then a second. It is easy to decipher that this is a shower, they each wash off, and easier to notice that the couple started to have sex. You could see the outline of her breasts and ass, I could not see his boner shadow though, bummer. Sexy silhouette sex right in front of my peeping eyes, we were all wide eyed.

The slap heard around the world made me think they knew we were watching, if we can hear them they can also hear us. It was a short fuck, it seemed fake, like in Austin Powers when he was making shadow scenes look dirty. I kept feeling like I was going to get Punk’d.

I like this channel.

make a wish

That moment when you know it isn’t going to last forever but you don’t want it to end. It’s sad, but it’s life. Not everything is meant to be, not for forever or even right now, not everyone is in on the fairy tale.

It is easy to wish for impossible things.

Even if it’s wonderfully magical, if it hurts someone else it’s wrong. Love is supposed to uplift the world around you, not to cause you happiness at the expense of another.

You need to take care of others and make sure your actions will not negatively effect another person, especially one you love and respect. There is an action and reaction to everything, we are all part of the same delicate system of lust and heartbreak, love and that looming goodbye.

Some love is fleeting, ending only moments after it began, other times it takes weeks, months, or maybe even years to die. Even people who are married or in long term relationships might not REALLY be happy, sometimes people literally or figuratively stay together for the kids.

The “kids”may be actual children, pets, a house, social status, religious beliefs, money, comfort, pure laziness, or even really good sex.

Romeo and Juilet remind me of some of my recent affairs, destined to never really be together. There is no possible way this can work, not even true love can defy death (or in my case the bro code).

I have met people and knew instantly that I would love them, I can also read people well and know when I don’t have a snowballs chance in hell. Crushes are meant to be crushed.

There have also been some sleepers, people I dismissed as a romantic interest instantly friend zoning them, just to later find that there was some weird secret spark between us. It wasn’t always love at first sight, sometimes it is love upon insight.

Not every person looks like they could be your “type,” but what exactly is a type anyways? It’s bullshit. People are more than what they look like or seem to be. Sure I have seen an attractive person and felt instant connections,but that doesn’t mean they are love at first sight material. It’s complicated.

Extended eye contact, intense conversation, not nervous until you realize this could be it. Then it all goes downhill from there.

I always want what I can’t have. Is that why other girl’s boyfriends are more appealing to girls? That internal competition, survival of the fittest. The fight for survival.

I am an only child, so I can be a little bit self centered sometimes. I can’t have everything. Some people don’t find me sexy and that’s OK, it’s their prerogative. I don’t want to jump into bed with ever schmuck who wants me either.

It needs to go both ways. They need to love me and must reciprocate for it to work. It’s hard to hear that someone doesn’t find you attractive, but that’s how the cookie crumbles.

I can’t help but to attack my physical looks whenever I get denied. Well if I wasn’t so fat maybe he would love me, ect. I know that’s crap and not to take it personally but it is hard.

ethical slutLet’s just be friends, implies that we were more (are more) and now it’s over, at least in the traditional sense. Benefits? We can fuck but no emotions are allowed. This is difficult for me to grasp. All sex is based on emotional connection for me.

I recently tried the detached booty call thing and felt really empty afterwards. The lack of kissing and cuddling disturbed me. Polyamory is confusing, so is hookup culture.

I wanted more, I yearned for a deeper connection that I knew we just didn’t have.

Like a one night stand should, I left right after. It felt damn good, I just wanted to cuddle more and maybe round two, but felt awkwardly passive.

Then on the other hand I found someone that I did have a connection with, but due to circumstances, we could not be together. The sort of “naughtiness” and secretive beginnings made everything feel nice, but unfortunately for me and my conscience I knew it had to stop.

stripteasers are the funniestWahh wahhhh. On another planet things might have been different. For now I will just sit here with my horniness. I keep telling myself I can’t be sad when you move on, but also that I know I can get what I want elsewhere.

I have a track record of falling for my friends too. I get so nervous about being rejected that I allow myself to be instantly friend zoned.

I am fucking amazing, especially at being a friend. It’s easy for me to make life long connections. My lack of confidence is astounding, I can never make the first move or seal the deal with a person I am interested in. I can’t use magic to make someone love me either, if it is not consensual I don’t want it.

What is that shit? Either we can have no strings attached sex with those we don’t love or no sex with those we do love. I want a middle ground, I need both, I want the connection and the sextin.

I can wait. Happiness is worth it. I will go through a hundred someones before I find the ultimate one, if that’s a real thing, even then it might just be for now. Lust or bust.

nakedbike

Having sex so hard it breaks furniture is an awesome life goal to have, extreme bump and grind. I was once sleeping with a guy in a fancy hotel and we did our puzzle so hard the headboard came off the wall. It was incredible.

I have broken my fair share of bed frames with rambunctious coitus. This time it was the box spring, right in the middle, his thrusting or my riding? Which one of us should sleep in the hole? Neither one of us cares at that point.

broken bed

The best part of owning your own home or even just living by yourself (or partner) is having sex in every single room of the house. Up against the dining room table, leaning over the bathroom sink, on the couch, on the recliner, against the kitchen counter, on the washing machine during spin cycle, in the hallway, and then the forever classic bedroom sexcapades.

I once had a California king sized bed in my living room. It was the cuddle puddle. We had our TV in the fireplace, it was lovely. There were plush unicorns, artistic stuffed tentacles, and all the pillows imaginable. The perfect place to have sex except for the fact it was in the middle of the most trafficked area of the house. I know that at least one of my roommates had sex in the bed.

I have an affinity for vintage couches. There is one in particular that probably needs to just get burned. Trying to have sex on it would be painful, protruding springs and no padding making it virtually impossible to climax. The intense squeaks and moans of old furniture is the worst. Nothing discreet about it.

couch

Who doesn’t like the idea of being watched? Voyuerism is participation, baby. The only time it ever happened was in the same hotel room where we ripped down the headboard. My friend and my dude’s friend were in the next bed over. It was lovely to watch them while doing it myself. We weren’t touching but we were definitely connected.

There is a thrill when you think you are going to get caught. When someone might walk in the room and see you getting it on. I am a burlesque dancer, I give the illusion of sex and sultriness.Brings me back to high school and getting caught by my boyfriend’s mom, awkward sauce.

I once had a roommate who lived in the living room with cubicle walls as her walls. There was no privacy, it drove her crazy. I am the kind of person that will poop with the door open. I have been referred to as a “mud woman” by my other roommate.

I am always naked. I love it. I am proud of my body and understand its imperfections. I love to show it proud as much as I can. nakedbikeride

The World Naked Bike Ride is going to be happening again in Buffalo this coming Saturday. I am excited to participate again. It was truly magical. Although it will be bittersweet because my trike is out of commission. The back axel snapped. It was ok though because I didn’t get hurt, and like three beautiful lesbians ran out of a tattoo shop to make sure I was ok.

My dad helped me order a new trike, its collapsible and awesome, but now that looks like an eBay scam. Boo. Thankfully my friend is letting me borrow her old trike for Saturday. I know it’s mostly mental but I am legit scared to ride a regular two wheel bicycle.

The Naked Bike Ride’s motto is Nude Not Lewd! Less Gas More Ass!  It is about cycling being good for the environment, lessening the stamp we put on the environment with transportation and the burning of fossil fuels. The naked bike ride is also about bringing awareness of cyclists in general and sharing the road safely.

You can see me now when I’m naked, tits to the wind, but you don’t see me when I am fully clothed with reflective safety gear on. Cars are oblivious to bikes, it’s dangerous even in the bike lane.

Last year I was slow riding and ended up falling to the back of the pack, the police escort was the only thing behind me. I felt like a nude fugitive.

Being naked outside during the day is sensational. There were more naked guys than girls, a lot of meat and potatoes in the wind. Very few naked ladies. I get it. I feel like a troll doll most of the time. I am a day rise vampire. Bathing in sun rays only to turn to dust. As I sit here the construction workers outside have already starting drilling so what does it matter anyways.

burlesqueI should be making pasties, which I will be giving to girls at the ride to encourage nudity. It’s amazing what a little nipple disc can do for someones confidence, add tassels and they are unstoppable for life.

The moral of this blog is that life is too short not to have sex in every room of the house. It’s  kind of hot if people watch, and riding your bike naked in the sun with a thousand other people is the best feeling in the world.

Be empowered, enjoy life to the fullest, never be afraid. If they are gonna watch, give um a show!

P.S. I am looking for questions for future Ask Cat Blogs! Ask Away…

sunshine

Its interesting to me that I haven’t been writing about sex lately. My sexual writers block is caused by me actually having a sex life of late.

It is easy to write about anonymous faces or generalized sexual partners, but when you are getting it on the regular there is less to talk about because you are practicing it. I’m less concerned with chasing tail once its in my bed warm and waiting.

I came home to someone sleeping in the broken spot in my bed, I took off all of my clothes and climbed in. Right where I belonged in that moment. Sticky sweaty skin, soft flesh melting into more tender loveliness. I can go into detail about the sun coming through the window and the exact sounds and smells, the wonderful warmth.

Some things cannot be defined by words alone. A smile upon waking, my legs fit inside yours. Its nice to know that I wasn’t the only one wondering, what if? I run my finger down the nape of your neck and see you shiver with antici……pation.

I am more of an expert at longing for some touch, rather than actually having someone. I don’t believe in ever really “having” anyone, people aren’t propery. It is easy to preach about self confidence and feeling good about life regardless of your relationship status, but living it is a different story.

I always say that true love should be effortless, pure joy, constant stream of brilliant moments and moments where you must lift each other to brilliance. I was once told that I would never find love if I didn’t lose weight, but then I learned to love myself. There is more to love when you love each inch.

Do opposites really attract? I feel as though you must have some things in common to spark that initial fire, but you can’t be the same person. I always look for someone as out there and artistically over achieving as I am. There cannot be light without dark, you cannot know true bliss without knowing the bitter taste of defeat and sadness. The placement of the darkest shadow and most brilliant highlights is the main element of successful art.

I was in California and I couldn’t imagine having weather that pleasant all year round. Eternal summer. I need that six months of winter to hibernate and make art. If I were able to frolic about and play in the sunshine all year I would never get shit done.

I am so easily distracted by the summertime feel fine way of life. I want to lay in the sun in a field of flowers and stretch out as far as I can with the life affirming warmth beating down on me. It’s like love, to appreciate the good times you need to survive the rest of times. You need to have a job to appreciate days off.

travel
I had never traveled that far from home, I roamed away from Buffalo. I felt a little like Hunter S Thompson heading to Las Vegas to pick up a flight to San Diego. Instead I should rent the biggest reddest oldest convertible there is and drive it across the desert. No looking back, no surrender.

Humans are meant to wander, to move around, experience things. If we stay in place we become stupid and stagnant, fenced in by our own insecurities and fears. It’s a horrible life to not want more, to not wonder what else is out there, to see how other people live, to notice the differences and relish in the familiar moments.

Las Vegas is a place I never wanted to meet, slot machines at every turn, I thoroughly dislike gambling. There is something so creepy about the subliminal hum of casinos. The elderly and addicted sitting like drones pushing buttons and pulling levers. Its downright freaky to me. If I’m going to waste my money its going to be on something that makes me happy. Physical things should never be the cause of happiness. Money will never be the cause of happiness.
Marilyn-Monroe-and-Turret-pg183-copy

I visited Coronado Island in San Diego. It was where Some Like It Hot was filmed. Gold flecked beaches shimmered brilliantly. I stood in the same place that Marilyn Monroe stood.

It was magical, but it also made me think that she was just a woman, doing her thing in the height of her life and popularity. She had no idea that her image would make such an impact on the world. Her beauty radiates throughout generations who were not even alive yet. Icon status.

People often compare me to her, I think merely because of the blondness and buxom nature of our curves. The curse of curves, the curves that possibly got her murdered by the Kennedys. Someone told me today that I smile like Marilyn, big and cheesy, a lot hiding in that smile. some like it hot
I was dumped once for being unnaturally happy, never arguing or fighting the entire relationship. He couldn’t stand it. I thought of myself as more of a ray of sunshine to his clouds.

It is easier to be openly flirty once you have already been inside someone. Asking for more is different than asking for the first time. Uncertainty is terrifying. It is also what life is all about, taking chances. The idea of being shot down by a love interest is as scary as the idea of being shot down in the streets by a robber.

Successful relationships come down to who did the dishes and took the garbage out, superficial bullshit that is actually a big symbol of respect. Little things count.

Life is more than just beautiful moments and physical attraction. You must work hard and struggle before success is handed to you. Take the good with the bad and fall in love with the journey.

Marilyn Monroe is a timeless beauty, she will never age in our minds because she was taken before her time, dead before she got too old to wrinkle. Love your wrinkles and curves, live in the moment, travel as much as possible, compliment others, and love hard. You never know when your sun will set. Life is only right now, bask in its glory.

melissa campbell buffalo infringement

To kick off ASK CAT, a new monthly advice column on FTB, Cat McCarthy dared her Facebook friends to ask her anything about Sex, Dating, Politics, Art, Feminism, Activism, LGBTQ issues, Drugs, Culture, etc. We published the first three responses and now the rest.

Now, it’s your turn. ASK CAT anything: Cat@ForgetTheBox.net

Dear Cat, What should I do if I wake up in between two dudes with cake smeared all over my chest, I’m wearing a 1980s blond wig, I’m thirsty, my feet are bound together, my nose is running and one of them looks like the messiah….while some famous director is filming me in his bloody underwear. Should I wait for an invite to the threesome?

– Melissa Campbell

Hi Melscamp! As you know from personal experience I am not the person to ask about joining into a threesome. While I have had several successful and life changing threeways in my life they don’t always end well for me. It will not work if you feel self conscious, if you feel like they are more interested in each other and not you, or if the girl doesn’t like you but the guy does and you would both rather just be with him. Threesomes must be mutual, all on the same playing field.

she lives richard simmons cat sinclairDid you smear the cake before you fell asleep? Is it tasty? Were you drunk or on drugs? Is this consensual? Are the guys hot? Is that REAL blood? Why is Dirty Jesus called that? Do you want this? Are you in the non-consent yurt? Is there a lambskin condom?

I know you are into some kinky shit, so in my opinion, YES, get into that threesome. Don’t be like me and wait for the invite, nobody is ever going to invite you, if you are already into it that far with them they want you there! Any self made flaws are not noticed in groupsex.

I once hooked with two friends, they answered the door wearing matching boxer briefs. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I was a goddess to them. Make sure you are being treated with respect and have a safe word. You are a goddess and I blame you for everything

Dear Cat, Which side of a double sided dildo is preferable?

– Velvet

cat noseHi Al! Well my dad always says “if you go to the right, you can’t go wrong,” so the answer is you must spin the dildo
around counterclockwise in the center of a lesbian boob circle and whichever way it lands pick the side to your right, add lube, and enjoy with a special friend on the left end.

Or I would also say inspect the dildo and pick the side with less cat hair stuck to it. Silicone dildos are big time attractors of cat hair (which is prevalent in most lesbian relationships, the most common owners of double ended dildos).

Got a question for Cat? Ask it: Cat@ForgetTheBox.net

gay pride unicorn

“Where Have All The Good Straight Men Gone?” ask many would-be subservient wifeys hopelessly scrolling through Tinder guys holding fish and deer carcasses posing on their 4 wheelers with TRUMP signs in the background.

They might be lurking around, holding doors, and throwing overcoats over puddles.

cage dancersLookin’ for a sweet innocent girl to put in a cage, change her name, make his claim, put on the apron and take off your shoes, silly little ditzy dame, you don’t have a mind to blow, spread those perfectly shaved legs, slow, lips, hips, the bump after the hump, it grows, like college tuition and your aging body dips in value. Again to be marginalized. A slave to society, the bondage of she, shhh just deny it, hide it, nobody cares about her anyways. Misguided feminists, and nontraditional warriors. Trapped indefinitely.

Maybe “traditional” stereotypical basic straight men don’t like me because I just don’t like that outdated notion of a straight man. I prefer people who know about their fluidity and are not rigid in the ways of how a man or woman should be, based on some shitty gender normative handbook handed out at birth to the illiterate new born masses.

I’ve had it up to here (points to the sky). Everyone should just admit they are queer. Never a straight line, there are always curves in the road, sensual, wonderful twists of reality and revolution. Being rigid in gender standards divides us, its perfectly fine to be a man, or a woman, or whatever in between there is. Nobody needs to be a wife beating manly man, bros disturb me – anyone who watches ultimate fighting and subscribes to Hustler and wears nothing but camo to hide his deep seeded insecurity.

Whenever I meet a cute guy who is fun, interesting, and seems genuinely interested in what I am saying, I instantly assume he is gay. I often check their bumpers for rainbows or look at who they are looking for on Facebook like a stalker (just to be sure), only to be a little disappointed. I have been falling in love with gay men my whole life. One of my first crushes is now a drag queen. He was a real jerk and called me out for having a crush on him. Drag Queens are my ideal women. Everything! Extreme hyperbole of a woman. The most femalest conclusion of taboo societal definitions. I love it all, with sequins on top.gay bestie and ronald

Ultra flamboyant gay men are my favorite creatures – my friends in college called me the Premier Fag Hag of Buffalo. I have always been entranced by feminine males (and masculine females). they can walk better in heels than I ever could imagine. I read a quote from someone on the internet saying that Prince and David Bowie basically reinvented manliness – they showed the world that there are different ways to be men, and that was ground breaking.

I should throw in the towel chancing boys completely and just go after adorable Asian women who roll joints really well, or curly haired artists with art dirt under their fingernails, dancers, poets, musicians, singers of drunk karaoke, activists, vegans, full of more kindness and smiles than anything, no aggression, no hate, only softness, tender sweet lush moments of confusion.

But god dammit I want to get it on to the angelic roar of Slayer’s “Raining Blood,” blasting on high at 4 am too.

And all the girls I think are cool are totally straight.

drag king walterI know that I am a weirdo, parts male and female, the ratios change based on my outfit and mood. You must have respect for yourself as well. If you hold your head high, no man can tear you down. This violent anti-woman power struggle we exist in is not right. We need to take back our piece of the pie. I do not want to hold anyone’s hand.

Let’s just say I have lost faith in most straight identifying males. Zero faith. None. “Men care more about what is going into my mouth than what is coming out of it,” my roomie said about her love life. A slew of one night stands who sleep with you and never call you back, or even worse, they just don’t bother to take your number to begin with. One foot out the door as soon as the condom is off. Texting some other girl while “talking” to you. Sex and romance is something that is taken for granted and not respected.

OK so maybe saying I have ZERO faith is a little much. Obviously there are exceptions to every generalized statement, good straight men do exist somewhere, I know girls who have found them. My best friend found her prince charming on Tinder and they are about to get happily married. It’s a success in a world of other people’s/my own epic love fails.

I see them, the good men, in their natural habitats, volunteering, riding bikes, reading books, eating vegetables, saving the world. They do exist, but I haven’t found the right one, just a lot of asshats posing as perfection. Apparently my confidence is intimidating. Perhaps its my fault for also holding them on such high pedestals. Who could live up to my ideal awesomeness? I think someone will defy that ideal and even surpass the awesome factor, blow my mind wide open.

The magic 8-ball says not tonight. I am just going to have to ride out this storm.

scream of horror

I was once told that I did not give adequate blow jobs. This infuriated me, just the fact that I am putting your dirty little pee hole in my mouth at all should be enough right? He then proceeded to show me some porn videos that he liked as tips. I remember studying the technique, how they ran their fingers down the shaft, keeping pressure on the base, not just focusing on one part but all of it. All of these movies have the same ending, a girl covered in mangasm. Gross.

My blow job skills are subjective, another dude I hooked up with told me I was the best he ever had (but maybe he tells that to everyone) and he still fantasizes about me. The best art is getting it over my pretty-little-innocent-porcelin- face. Right? Thats like the goal isn’t it? Gross!

People get really turned on by my phone sex operator voice and lush red laquored mouth. Im not always total freak in bed, she exists only lost in a fleeting moment or lost in love. Let go and be crazy. I don’t know if I have ever really had an orgasm or been in love. Or if I had then it didn’t change my life like a fairytale.

The way people write about and describe orgasms and love I would think that you would know if you had it. I just don’t. I have such high expectations for things that sometimes its impossible for all of them to come true.

It’s the same with my shows and art, but with those things it is almost easier because it is so on a stage and public. I can have flaws and they are celebrated. People enjoy the fact that I am funny and imperfect, they can relate to me. Fake it till you make it.

I can never complain about lack of sex l, I know I can get it whenever I want, its just a matter of wanting. I yearn for substance, not talking money or stuff, but compatibility in ways that nobody else understands.

My problem with relationships is that I always move too fast, and I am not immediately good at things. I need to practice being with this person, learn what they like, what makes them purr. That can’t happen in one night.

It is possible to have instant attraction, electric turn on lust rush. That’s what songs are written about, but every time that has happened to me it was fueled by an alcohol/ drug/ vacation induced confidence.

I was the most charming woman ever. They didn’t see my flaws yet, they saw what I wanted to show them, they never knew about my dandruff or wonky toenails. I know what to cover up and what to expose to make me seem perfect and sexy.
starfish sex

Am I a starfish? Do I just sit there and let them take me? I don’t think so… I enjoy switching it up. I wonder when people decide not to become repeat offenders? Now unfuckable?

I wish the end of every relationship or even one night stand could have a proper autopsy. I would like to learn about what went so wrong and know how to get better. Having bad sex is the absolute worst, you should never be sitting there waiting for it to end, that means you are doing it wrong.

I need to feel invited to join in. I was recently in a situation where three people started having sex in the same bed as me. For some reason I did not really participate, I didn’t leave either. I just watched, front row seat. Studied the way they touched each other, listened to the noises, basically being a real creep.

For some reason I just didn’t feel compelled to join in, they were all incredibly attractive humans doing hot stuff to each other, it was like live action porn, what is wrong with me? I am thrust into opportunities that I need to grab on to. I needed to just lick some nipples, kiss some lips, and caress.

I think about the moments that I let pass by. Moments where I wanted someone but didn’t tell them. Fear kept me planted. It rooted me as a bystander in my own reality. I wonder if it’s a defense mechanism. I suck at making the move and therefore should not go after people who are just like me.

It doesn’t make sense to me when I find someone who is perfect, really gets me and makes me laugh. This person keeps on living, going on just fine without me there, eating, pooping, and creating art with someone else.

Everyone I have thought I loved thus far has been or become unrequited. What does she have that I don’t? Is her pussy tighter, skin softer, sounds sexier? Do you tie her up? Does she peg? Do her nipples squirt whiskey? I don’t get it.

I am the most amazing woman that nobody wants. I wish I could be more open about getting what I desire in this world. The problem is that I need to explore myself to find out what I like and don’t like. Being lousy at sex is due to poor communication and lack of confidence.

berriesJust because I didn’t end up being what all my ex lovers want doesn’t mean I am at all undesirable to someone I haven’t even met yet. Sex is more than just mating or getting off, its emotional, all encompassing. I have been with people who were ravenous for my body. Throw me up against the wall or down on the bed, then to the curb.

I don’t ever want to be owned.  Life is beautiful. I am sick of wasting time wanting the unattainable. I want to be able to love someone and be confident in that but still have freedom to access the world’s fruit. Who cares if I suck at sex? Practice makes perfect right.

 

pinup

“Let’s plan on being spontaneous tomorrow!” There is no moment other than the one we are living in right now. You can’t push off things. Our world is on the verge of apocalypse, so why wait? You must delegate time to every important person and endeavor in life now. It’s easy to overfill your proverbial plate. Dreams don’t magically happen.

I will be late to my own funeral, feverishly typing this article the morning it’s due, I’m constantly in a hurry but I can think of other things to do.

I’m on my period and my emotions are running wild. AllI need is chocolate and a bong rip, I want sleep but have so much I need to accomplish before closing my heavy lids.

Instead of finishing and moving on I got my nostalgia on and watched a Fuller House marathon in my sweatpants with my roomie. I am the worst when it comes to being distracted. There is always a cat needing to be pet or a cute human starving for my attention. Why clean my room when I can have a threesome instead? The bar is always so much more appealing than the gym.

Its easy to be distracted when you live in an adult fun house. My roommates are all artists and performers, collaborations waiting to happen, an endless sea of ideas. I am excited to come home and create after a long day at work. If we are caught doing housework we are usually in full costume.

housework

We are all busy with multiple jobs and love affairs. Never judge someone by their day job, you never know what their dreams are. A fast food worker who does burlesque at night, baristas with soulful voices, bank teller poets, call center thespians, teachers who write pulp romance novels, tattooed doctors, veterinarian vegetarians, and retail rock stars.

We all have to take on many roles in life just to pay the stupid bills. I am sick of working everyday, life would be better if I could be an unemployed activist.

I still play dress up. I was the little girl who put on my mom’s clothes and makeup. Now I have more costumes than street clothes. My entire life is consumed with creation. I live like an eight year old, a pinup girl on a pink tricycle, the prettiest princess, and a powerhouse of ideas.

burlesqueI live with a makeup aficionado. It’s fun to come home at 9AM to someone in full drag, and then joining in. Playing is what life is all about.

Sometimes we dress in full costume for no reason at all and just wander around the neighborhood. There is no better cure for a broken heart. Halloween is everyday in a burlesque dancer’s house. It makes adulting nearly impossible.

Besides Facebook crack, my biggest distraction is love. Yearning to be swept off my feet, yet I have never been picked up off of the ground.

The world stops and I low key lose myself in pursuit. My thoughts get consumed, suddenly all of my art is about this person and not about politics or important issues.

I need to focus on meaningful art and experiences and half the time all I do is dwell on people who don’t want to have sex with me. I can’t get past rejection, I become addicted to the wrong person, and then let it totally yuck my yum.

When I just am the rawest version of myself and I do not expect anything, good things come my way. I had a threesome the other day that was by far the best sex I have ever had in my life. I never felt closer to letting go. I always hold something back, even when I “love” a person, I can’t help it. Maybe it’s self protection?

Letting go is my new theme. I recently did my first whip it in a yurt on top of a mountain in West Virginia and my thoughts vibrated. I was definitely a late bloomer when it came to drugs and alcohol. Even though I am a total stoner now, in high school I wasn’t the kid that skipped class to smoke across the street or steal parents’ liquor.

I didn’t drink at all until well after my 21st birthday. I wanted my brain to fully form before I destroyed it. I was always fighting distractions, I felt like school was an important thing to focus on and I’m glad I did it sober. I talk to a lot of people that partied hard in their youth and are now burned out. I didn’t die at 27 with a white lighter in my pocket, #winning.

dress up

There are just not enough hours in the day to get everything done. Some days it’s so hard to even get out of bed, I will often sleep away my only day off because I spent every other night up writing a blog, working on a costume, or painting a damn masterpiece. I need to just do nothing with my purring cats, they know when I need to chill more than I do most of the time.

When I find motivation I am fucking unstoppable. I am so afraid of missing out and having life pass me by that I go balls to the wall and attempt to get everything done under pressure. I am always being lectured: Act your age, get a “good” job, a girl like you should be getting paid (I would rather get laid).

As I age I digress, and that’s true success. Act out! Act up! Act a Fool! Act like today is your last day of living! Don’t stress on the stuff you didn’t accomplish, no looking back, just move forward. You are the best.

cat text

“You were the only one who ever understood me”… NOT TODAY SATAN!

Digital media and texting has changed the whole dating game. Why have face to face conversations when it can all be summed up in an emotionless message?

I’ve fallen into that pussy category. It’s the worst, a cop out, easier than actually dealing with the person. Communication, confrontation, and rejection are all the scariest things. Have I learned anything from past mistakes or successes?

It’s even worse when you send a drunk text. Or worse yet when you write the novel of a text and then decide you’re crazy and go to abort but accidentally press send and fuck everything up.

I have never been very good about remaining friends with past lovers. It’s not that I even have a lot of negativity towards these people, it just doesn’t work out. Life happens and there isn’t room for everyone in it.

Once you are naked-legs intwined-deepest darkest secrets intimate with another human it is very difficult to go back to just being friends in passing. I cannot level down without years of getting over it.

How do ex lovers know when you are either about to move on or at your most vulnerable? They always have the most impeccable timing ever, it must be a spider sense tingle that goes off in their brain.

I was pretty much having a mental breakdown the other day and out of the blue my longest relationship ever ex and most recent person that I needed to cut out both texted me simultaneously. It was ridiculous, a scene from a bad romantic comedy.

satanIs he contacting me because he misses me or if his relationship ended, is he feeling vulnerable, reminiscing on a time that was better, a time that he clearly fucked up and is missing. Well that ship has sailed bro. He remembers how happy I made him, how incredible the sex was, and how in comparison I was way better of a choice.

It’s been over a year since last contact, at least three years since we broke up for the final time, maybe more, time flies when you are single. He never maintained communication with me, I must have not been that important . What happened to change his mind?

Can they sense when you are about to move on? There is a feeling of power that one has when they deny someone the upper hand? When you finally give up on the situation and move on to greener pastures its like they get a notice. Something inside them feels the grip loosen, the power is gone.

This has happened before, we had broken up, it was months later, he texted me out of the blue, I ended up over at his house, and of course we slept together. He went to work the next day and I was still asleep. When I woke up I noticed that the portrait I did of him was missing, I saw it leaning in is closet.

How appropriate, my heart and soul resting in his closet, when I paint someone that means I love them, I took it from its frame and wrote him a letter (aka the original text message) he will probably never read on the back and popped it back in the frame and put it back in the closet, it was very dramatic.

It basically said that this was not meant to be and that someday he will be with someone else, find this, and remember how amazing I was. He was the one who broke up with me for being unnaturally happy, like a cartoon character he said. I had no business falling for such a broken man, so flawed and addicted, yet so beautiful, so much like me, so different, smart, an incredible musician (I used to make art while he recorded his music), and a lover like no other. We first met at my art opening seven years ago, I was in my prime.
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His ice breaker text was an inside joke. I said it once to someone I used to love, him. I’ve moved on. You had your chance. I have been single for several years now, I haven’t depended on anyone but myself for happiness. That last thing I need right now is to digress. Is this a test?

Maybe its Valentines Day? The worst holiday ever, where single folks are meant to feel crappy and those in relationships are expected to buy in.

I don’t want to fall for him again and go back to square one. Familiar doesn’t mean safe, fucking an ex may not be a new notch in the post but it still counts, there are always ramifications.

I answered him with something generic, made him wait for it too. A simple hope you are well. Sometimes there is just not enough time or space to get over the pain someone has put you through. Forgiveness must be earned.

I have a hard time with moving on, especially when I really want someone. I fall hard. He haunted my dreams and caused so much creative thought in me. I need to travel the world to find myself and new inspirations. I can’t just keep beating these dead horses.

It kills me to not be friends with him, with any of them, but I can’t. I always want more, it’s a terrible ache, an unjust lust. I need to say goodbye for now, farewell.

WINGWOMAN

I have the gift of bringing people or situations together. I’m an artist, I have a keen eye for seeing other people check each other out and even more so when it is one of my friends.

The most important part of being a great wingwoman is to know when to walk away. There is a fine line between a clingy friend and helping a bro out.

You can’t be in competition with your friends, the game is to motivate them. You have to boost your friend’s confidence and keep her looking good, no TP stuck to the shoe here.

Be the conversation starter if your friend is nervous, pump them up. Be a good cock block for your bro too, make sure nobody else tries to get in on your bud’s prospect.

It’s a beautiful sight to give your friend some words of advice, give them a hearty “Go get um tiger!” slap on the ass and watch the magic ensue. It’s important to adapt and blend into the wallpaper when necessary. You have to get them set up and make sure that your friend is consenting and wants this person.

Some techniques I use to seamlessly ghost out of a situation are going to the bathroom and never coming back, running to the car to smoke a bowl and never coming back, or just ghosting out with no explanation at all.

Leave your friend a “stranded” damsel in a dress. Oh no! my ride ditched me, guess I have to get a ride home from you while batting their eyelashes seductively.

My best wing woman moment was when I was visiting Florida. My friend lived there. She met this girl online and their first date was to drive upstate to get me and then we were going to go party in Miami.

We had an incredible night at a burlesque lesbian sushi bar that ended with us running out of gas on a six lane highway in the wee hours of morning. While we were waiting for a tow I was in the front seat. I told them to both go in back, I could feel the hot and heaviness coming on. So I pretended to fall asleep. They checked me several times to make sure I was legit sleeping to be respectful, and then got hot and heavy in the back. My eyes were glued shut so it was the best porno ever, my imagination is better than anything.

A Cat success story
A Cat success story
They are now engaged. Months later when she popped the question, all I could think is “you’re welcome!” Because of my awesome faux slumber skills they were able to lay the bricks to the foundation of their life together, aka get it on in the back of their SUV.

I have used my fake sleep technique to get myself out of a lot of potentially awkward situations. I’ve noticed that I was a third wheel and had no escape plan because I was drunk, so I just passed out on a couch and let magic happen.

When I cruise for poon I do it alone. I love going into bars, parties, and social situations by myself. I can get anyone I want when I am by myself. I am either a lone wolf or a mama bear.

I will always boost up my friends before myself. I will always hand over the hottie and bounce. But when I’m flying solo watch out!

I play wing for a few times to help you build confidence. After that my biggest advice is to roll solo, that is when you are truly free. You can get sweaty and nasty in a skank pit, stay as late as you want, go where your heart leads, there is nothing or nobody holding you back.

Yes, sometimes it is nice to walk into a bar with someone, but then you just talk to that person and never get to meet new people, if you are alone you are forced out of your comfort zone. You are instantly more appealing and approachable. That is why the best wingman always leaves. You start out as a team and get promoted to lone wolf when you are ready.

I am single, but I am not depressed. I’m currently cleaning my room so I can have future sex in it someday. Others are taking home Cuban male strippers and getting head from strangers in the street and I am making art and writing poems about boys and girls who love me not.

I don’t feel pressured to jump when anyone tells me too, I answer to no one. I’m cool with being a wingman and not a point man. Life is good. My whole life I have been “The Fat Friend” and that is what has turned me into the incredible wingwoman I am today. I love my body.

I understand that many people judge others based solely on their appearance. I know I am sexy, I know I am desirable, I do not need anyone to affirm that for me.

I finally realized that the path to self discovery is in my own head. Of course I want to get fucked more often and find some good ol’ fashioned companionship, but it’s not easy.

My style is to find someone, then silently fall in love and obsess over just that one person until it is too unbearable. Then of course, I run away because I’m a creep. I wish I could be the type of girl who just meets someone at a bar and goes for it right without hesitation.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve taken plenty of humans home, but not lately. When it comes to love and sex I yearn for something greater, someone who really gets my weird.

Maybe I’m getting older or maybe I just need to find my own unselfish, ride or die wing woman to up my game.

* Featured art by Amy Lynn Duengfelder

jacq the stripper

Jacq the Stripper, aka Jacqueline Frances, is an insatiable female force of nature. She is a true “Jacq” of all trades: writer, stripper, illustrator, comedian, and inspiration to us all.

In her highly anticipated new show and book The Beaver Show she reveals a more intimate side of being a stripper. In the book she lets us in, deep, and tells us about her tour from Australia to New York. Now with the help from her friends, fans, and former lovers’ Kickstarter support, she is coming back on tour to her favorite place in the world, Montreal!

I was lucky enough to ask her a few questions. As a burlesque dancer myself it was interesting to hear her perspectives and comments about girl power and body positivity. She does what she wants and takes inspiration from some of my favorites.

Go see her show and support beauty and bawdy artistic freedom, you will regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t. I’ll be the guy sitting in the corner jacking off. See you there! Splash zone in the corner. 😉

photo by Cat McCarthy
photo by Cat McCarthy

Here are a few excerpts from her incredible book The Beaver Show that you just have to buy and have her sign for you:

“I dance. Naked. For large (and occasionally insultingly modest) sums of money.”

It all started five years ago in Sydney, Australia when she was just 23: “I still wanted to be a traveler, just not a poor one anymore. So I shaved my legs and bush, showed up to the first Google search result that came up for ‘gentlemen’s club Sydney,’ got naked for this old fat guy named Jim and, to my surprise, I liked it. A lot.”

Stripping is about feeling powerful, sexy, and endlessly curious about how far a dude’s kinks will go (‘show me your armpits’) and how much he is willing to pay for them ($1200).

And the money’s sexy.

The Beaver Show Tour is coming to the area (Did you just cum in your pants when you read that? Are you even wearing any pants?)

  • January 20 2016 8pm An Evening with Jacq the Stripper @ Chez Serge, Montreal $20 for the book (incl. free cover) or $5 cover
  • January 22 2016 The Riff @ Le Nouveau Theatre Ste. Catherine, Montreal $7
  • January 24 2016 9:30pm Crimson Wave Comedy @ The Comedy Bar, Toronto $5
  • January 26 2016 7pm An Evening with Jacq the Stripper @ The Side Door Barrie, ON $10 advance / $15 door
  • January 27 2016 @ The Beaver Toronto ON

T&A Q&A

1) So you are just a writer that strips right (sarcasm all day there)? When did you decide to write a book? How long did the process take?

I’ve always been a writer, and when I started stripping I couldn’t NOT write about it. My first day ever was over five years ago, so I guess you could say that’s when I started writing it. After a torturous year or so of trying to nab an agent, I published it in October 2015.

2) What was your initial response to David Bowie’s passing? How has he influenced your art?

It was a very sad morning when I found out. In my first year at McGill, one of my teachers told us to choose an ‘artifact that symbolizes modernity.’ Most people chose things like ticketing machines or nylon stockings… I chose the persona of Ziggy Stardust and went on to write a 25-page paper on him. I got the paper back and my professor was like, “This is a stretch for what I assigned… but clearly you are very passionate about David Bowie. B+”

He did whatever the fuck he wanted and man did he ever commit to it. I knew he got dressed every single day not giving a fuck about what other people thought of him. His talent and his image were inseparable and it was clear that he enjoyed that. He’s a legend in my heart and in all the manifestations of my creativity.

3) Congrats on meeting your Kickstarter goal! Have you ever seen the Amanda Palmer “Art of Asking” TED Talk? Have you ever thought of doing your own TED Talk? What would you title it? I’d so watch it! You are an inspiring lady.

Thank you! I guess my stand-up is a little preachy and story-telling-y, so maybe I’m already a TED talk in the making… albeit a raunchy one. I haven’t seen Amanda Palmer’s but I’ll be checking that out very soon! What’s their policy on profanity? I have yet to eradicate swearing from my set. It’s just too important.

photo by Ryan Kobane
photo by Ryan Kobane

4) I respect that you are a touring artist and strive to do that more with my own burlesque show. Do you have any advice? How did you get your tour off the ground? Is it hard to be married and touring? Do you have any pets at home? I often think I need a tour bus that is cat friendly because I couldn’t leave my lil fur babies.

No pets no babies low rent and the most encouraging, grounded wife in the world is how I can even fathom going on this tour. Kickstarter certainly helped make it all happen, which really just means I have a community of people who believe in me. I would not be able to do it without the support of my friends, family, and randoms on the internet who are stoked about my mission to humanize sex work and spread the gospel of happy sluts. The tour is only just beginning so I can’t speak to its challenges yet. BUT THERE WILL BE PLENTY, I ASSURE YOU.

5) You are performing in Montreal this week. Tell me about your show? Does it vary based on the night?

The Beaver Show book tour is a different show every night. I like to invite local brains and talent to collaborate, as I don’t think I’m at the one-woman-show point in my life yet. I have my stand-up act, but that’s only part of it. In Toronto, for example, we’re having Victoria Lean, a brilliant filmmaker, host while I tell jokes and riff from the book (I hate reading aloud – I think it’s boring) followed by a Q&A with musician Leah Fay from July Talk.

6) Montreal is my favorite city in the world! What is your favorite Montreal adventure story?

It is my favourite city in the world, too! I spent five incredibly formative years there and I don’t even know where to begin because my whole life there was an adventure. I mean let’s just talk for a minute about how cheap the rent was: I had a two bedroom apartment all to my damn self for $600 a month. It was above GoGo lounge, so it was loud as fuck but I didn’t care because I never slept. I painted on my walls and ate $2 chow mein with peanut butter sauce on it when I was hungry… Oprah should have really interviewed me about living my Best Life.

7) Do you have any comments about censorship? Male nipples vs female nipples on social media? Have you experienced censorship firsthand?

BOOBS FEED BABIES. Start censoring male nipples, please. They’re not as pretty AND they are LITERALLY useless as fuck.

8) Do you consider yourself a feminist? What would you like a young girl to take from your show?

I AM A RAGING FEMINIST. I will shout it from the rooftops.

My show is 18+ because I talk about very adult issues. But I know that young girls are going to see it anyway, and to them I will tell them “It’s your body and don’t let anyone shame you for it. Do what feels right and always take a minute to make sure you’re doing what you want and not what you think you should be doing.”

9)Who is your biggest artistic influence? I also see that you just performed in Baltimore and your book is sold at Atomic Books. How has John Waters affected you and your work?

Oh my god John Waters is one of my heroes. I’d like to make movies as delightfully crass as his one day. He revels in bad taste and doesn’t have a pretentious bone in his body. He is so curious and has lived a life where he’s done whatever he wants, whether it’s film, books, stand-up comedy or hitchhiking across America. Whenever I get discouraged about pursuing my dreams, I remember that he made Pink Flamingos with $10 000. He inspires me so say whatever the fuck I want without worrying about the approval of elitist tastemakers. The more people won’t let you in to their club, the harder you’ll try to build your own.

10) I’m a big fan of your illustrations! Did you go to art school? If so how do you think it prepared you for your current path?

I was in an art program in grade 9, but that was eons ago… I just started doodling to illustrate what was being said to me at work. Now I treat my art like a new platform for my storytelling, plus it’s so goddamn therapeutic. Seriously if you can’t afford therapy, buy a sketchbook. And if the thought of drawing stresses you out, buy a colouring book. You will feel better.

11) Any other tid bits you would like people to know about you? Where are you from? Like long walks on the beach? What’s your sign? Ect….

I’m Canadian, from Ontario although I claimed Montreal for a while. Now I’m just an expat. I only say I’m from New York when I’m trying to book venues (it works).

I’m an Aquarius, I love blue cheese, swimming and giving close friends shitty makeovers.

Buy my book! It’s called The Beaver Show, and you can get it on Amazon. Or go to your local independent bookstores and beg them to stock my book. If you have time to do that I would be eternally grateful.

* Featured image by Andy Boyle

* An Evening with Jacq the Stripper @ Chez Serge, 5301 Boul St-Laurent, Wednesday January 20th, 8pm, $20 for the book (incl. free cover) or $5 cover

* The Riff @ Le Nouveau Theatre Ste. Catherine, 264 Rue Sainte-Catherine E, Friday, January 22nd, $7

* For more: jacqthestripper.com

salon-damour-63

The room is dark but alive with activity. On the main stage strippers – male and female – burlesque artists and fetish performers do their thing, some with volunteers from the audience, some without. Some audience members caress their partners while others scream and cheer. On the main floor merchants peddle everything from vibrators and butt plugs to lingerie and scented candles.

Valentine’s Day is approaching and the Salon de l’Amour et de la Seduction is in full swing.

The Salon de L’Amour et de La Seduction is Montreal’s annual sex show. Every year in one of Montreal’s many exhibition halls – usually Place Bonaventure or the Palais de Congres – merchants, educators, and performers gather together to celebrate sex in all its forms.

There are a lot of myths about sex-related events: that they’re full of freaks, that people behave inappropriately, or that the patrons are old and disgusting or perfectly beautiful in a way that would cow the average Joe into staying away.

Montreal’s Everything-To-Do-With-Sex Show disproves them all.

The crowd is a varied but behaved one; there are people of all races, sexual identities, disability levels, and ages. Some go for the shopping, others go for the performances, while still others go to attend lectures in the seminar room of the exhibition hall.

People think that events like these are full of weirdoes.

You want to meet REAL weirdoes?

Go to a house of worship, or an office, or a political fundraiser. In those places people dress “normally”; they smile when you greet them and are almost irritatingly polite, but what some of them are not telling you about is their deep seated hatred of women and LGBTI people. They won’t tell you that they think sex is disgusting and evil and shouldn’t be enjoyed. They won’t say out loud that they think it should only occur in circumstances that bigoted leaders and outdated books dictate. They won’t tell you this, but they’ll vote for such leaders; they’ll be snarky and cruel behind closed doors, and dole out hatred in a way that falls under the radar of liberal lawmakers.

You want to meet people who are truly normal? You want to meet people who are open-minded and interested in what you say and won’t judge you for your body or your sexual identity or preferences, provided what you do is safe and consensual?

You’ll find them at the Salon de L’Amour et de la Seduction.

Though scores of patrons are elaborately made up and corseted in leather and latex, there is no real dress code and everyone is made to feel welcome. Sex educators offer free advice on everything from safe practices for people with disabilities, to how to find your G-spot or give the perfect blow job or cunnilingus. Are you over 50? No problem! They also have lectures on sex after 50.

Need a new vibe? Sex shops, some online, some with store front, offer a variety of sex toys at discounted prices, and like in a sex shop, the sellers always have batteries on hand so you can test the strength of a vibrator on your hand before you buy it.

But the merchants aren’t all about sex.

There are peddlers for kitchen ware, flat irons for hair, and even heating pads. Corsets can go upwards of 200 bucks if you buy them online or in stores, but you can get a decent one for as little as 35 bucks at the Salon. Newer businesses like Cam4.com and Vanish My Waist use the Salon to get their name out, the former this year offering a free pair of winter gloves with their logo on it.

Despite the glamour and air of welcome, the exhibit is far from perfect. Sitting space for the tired or disabled who need to take a breather are sparse, and the room is hot, a combination of body heat from the scores of patrons and to keep workers and performers – many of whom are scantily clad – comfortable.

If you want to survive at this show, you either have to check your winter coat at the door, or bring a bottle of water. Bottled water at the show sells at an inflated price of about three bucks. Some vendors at the show are unnecessarily aggressive and you have to be comfortable saying no in order to get by them without buying something you’ll never use.

If you like adult films but are uncomfortable buying them online or in a sex shop, you’re shit out of luck. While in previous years a variety of adult films with were available for sale, now only a few Canadian vendors sell them, and these are clearly suck and fuck productions with no story, style, or substance.

I was informed last year by a representative of Good For Her, a female friendly sex shop in Toronto who unfortunately did not have a booth at this year’s exhibition, that the lack of quality porno movies for sale at the show was due to the widespread availability of material online.

It should also be noted that tickets are pricey. A one day pass is about $17.50 plus tax, but for an extra five bucks you can get a weekend pass that will allow you unlimited re-entry for all three days of the show.

Despite its shortcomings, the Salon is worth a visit. Every year I learn something new from the scores of sex educators at the show, and the performances seem to get better every time. Though I usually only go for a day, next year I’m springing for a weekend pass for despite a day surrounded by open-minded leather and latex clad performers and experts, there was still so much to see that I missed out on.

Because of the nature of the show, advertising is limited, so you’ll have to search online next January for the dates of next year’s show.

Check it out.

18+ only, no exceptions, no babies

* Featured image from the 2011 edition of the Salon de L’Amour et de la Séduction by Chris Zacchia

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What bleeds for a week and doesn’t die?

I find myself sitting alone in my bed watching, videos of kittens cuddling with various other cute creatures, orphans getting adopted for Christmas, the reactions of dogs seeing their soldier owners after years of deployment, and more sappiness into the wee hours of morning just weeping. Crying my eyes out for no reason and every reason imaginable. Its ridiculous – I feel weak and powerless over my emotions. Its like that Sarah McLaughlin fucking Angel song is playing on repeat in my brain for the entirety of my red wave.

Recently, I have been really feeling like a WOMAN. I have had my period for about a week now. This month my darling Aunt Flo is a relentless bitch. I love my femininity most of the time, but during my red days I would much rather have a penis, even a small penis would be better than a throbbing, bloody pussy. Penis envy is not my thing, but I would trade her in for a few days each cycle. I know that I am probably no fun during these days. All of the energy is drained out of my body and I catch myself being hormonally cranky and full of pure rage for no apparent reason. I apologize for anyone whom I hurt during this time.

When I am not crying or ready to kill someone, I am ferociously horny. Its insatiable. Time to earn your red wings lover. I do often find that I am pretty much irresistible while bleeding, the bears can smell the menstruation. I smell different and am full of all the hormones – the “whore moans.” I have had some of the best sex of my life while on the rag. Shower sex is so much fun or even just putting a towel down works. I’m a squirter, so I do these things anyways. I even had a bearded gentleman suitor eat me out, while my beef curtains were extra rare. It was fucking intense! He couldn’t help himself, like a wild animal he devoured me. I have had sex with several women while they were on their periods, I did not let the bloodbath scare me. I mean, I definitely concentrated on the clit with my mouth, and let the fingers do all of the dirty work, but it was beautiful and spontaneous. Tasted a little like pennies.

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The day I lost my virginity: I was a young teenager and my boyfriend lived like a half hour away, he had to take the bus to come see me. The night before we messaged each other on AIM, and planned the whole thing. My parents were going to work and he was going to make the trek over to pop my cherry. This is it, I thought, the day I am going to become a woman! So I wake up with a smile on my face, and then look at my panties: SONOFABITCH! I got my period. There was no way to call him off since this was before cell phones were prevalent. So I cleaned it up and pretended like nothing was out of the ordinary. We had sex for the first time and I bled. He was also a virgin and just assumed that all the blood was from my precious little hymen breaking. I started my sexual career based on a lie.

I never read the book but apparently there is a part in 50 Shades of Grey, where he removes her bloody tampon and they get it on. Good for them! I’m happy that this is being discussed. The intimacy of a relationship is built on love and attraction. I am a woman and I bleed, fucking deal with it! If you want to get it on go ahead. Period blood is natural and lubricating. Its not that I want a guy to pull out the tampon and ring it out with his teeth like a delicacy or chew on the blood clots like candy. I just want some consideration down there. It’s easy to wipe your junk off or to take a shower. Could be from red to dark brown clumps, still fine. What’s a little blood and uterus goo between lovers?

I have to admit that I have had my reservations in the past when it came to period sex. Now, I see that it was just the insecurities of my partners at the time that made me think that way. I had been told by too many men that it was gross. You want me to swallow your cum and that’s sexy, but if you get a little blood on your dick that’s gross? Fluids are fluids as far as I’m concerned. I even had a man freak out once when I woke up with my period and stained his sheets. It was mortifying and I felt second-class the way I was treated. Total disrespect.

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Some people are even into blood play. They go as far as cutting each other and having sex in the blood. In a world where HIV is real, I think that is a little dangerous. What I’m talking about is sex with a condom during a light day of my period, not so gross. It is a myth that you cannot get pregnant during your period, so still be safe, please.

People are obsessed with blood to the point that they make art with it. Menstrual blood paintings are a real thing. I once was dressed like a zombie and left a bloody hand print on someone’s wall, that was pretty funny. In college it seemed like every feminist art student made at least once piece with tampons. I made a corset out of tampons and other feminine products. Imagine filling squirt guns with fake blood and having a war with the tampon corsets on, they would puff up. Total period piece.

During the time of the month where our life-giving uterus sheds its lining, women can become ferocious sex crazed beasts. Take advantage of that. Get over the bloody stigma and dive right into the red sea – it is spread open and ready for the taking.

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Why do people always think I’m a fucking Dominatrix?

Not saying it’s a bad thing, I know a few people who are in the scene and make a living dominating people of all classes, ages, genders and kinks. They are very passionate and professional, I am in no way discrediting or mocking this lifestyle, I know it is real and beautiful to so many people.

I recently found out that a very close friend of mine is a dominatrix and she told me in detail about her giving her first golden shower, and that’s not even the strangest thing she’s done. There are a lot people out there who can not get off from traditional sex and explore the kink scene as a way of further stimulation and release.

It is a scene that happily lies beneath the radar, and so many people hide their kinks due to work or family. I am not NOT into it, just not sure where my place is. I think BDSM is a beautiful and fascinating subculture that has and will forever exist, I am just not a current card carrying member of the lifestyle is all.

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I am definitely not a believer that all women are submissive and should bow down to men and be slaves to the kitchen and child rearing. Women historically have had to struggle through male dominance in all parts of life.

I enjoy when there is a power shift in the stereotypical sexual paradigm. The thigh high leather boot is on the other foot. I have been on the giving side of pegging and have watched a lot of cuckhold porn, but I have never identified as a dominatrix.

A steady stream of people have always reached out to me through dating websites, social media, and in real life about dominating them. So many, in fact, that it makes me think, huh, are they seeing something in me that I do not? Is there are a part of me I need to explore here? Do I have dom denial? Is this what I want?

Things like “ever want to have full control over a man, having him obey your every command?” Or a guy who messaged me on every dating site regularly for the last few years with this: “kneels and says hello beautiful mistress, may I kiss your boots?” Then every once in a while I will get the “please be my mistress, I will do literally anything!”

I have never once responded, and this has been YEARS. I wonder if by not responding I am giving him what he wants? Does he feel like my lack of interest is degrading him?

I just received this message on OKcupid and it astounded me: ” I’m a 21 year old international student and I am looking for a mistress who would love to dominate me. If you like the idea to dominate, degrade, humiliate, and make your slave, who would literally do anything, I am the best guy to do it. You can make me massage you with oil all over your body, or apply Nutella on all the parts of your body and make me lick it, or spank me, or anything else in the world. I really enjoy being a slave and am extremely passionate about it. I hope to get the opportunity to serve you beauty goddess. If you feel you are not the type of person to do this then I highly recommend trying it. From my experience girls with no experience really enjoy it and get addicted to it since its not necessarily about being dominant but more about getting exactly what you want and something like a tailor made option.” All I can imagine is a vagina full of Nutella.

Is it because I am self assured? Confident? An Amazon woman? Do I look mean? Maybe it’s the costumes?

I could not imagine degrading someone, making them lick the dirt from my shoe and piss on their face. I don’t know if I would laugh or want to give them a hug. My nature is to be sweet and gentle, but what if my lover wants me to inflict pain and say horrible shit? Do I go there?

Being a dominatrix can’t be easy. Its scary when a person puts their full trust in you, their life is in your hands, you have control, and that’s a big fucking responsibility. You have to fulfill someone’s deepest darkest sexual fantasy with safety, kindness, and compassion.

cat dom 2Even though the name of the game is degradation, you are doing it to ultimately give the other person pleasure. When I think about the best sexual experiences of my life, some of them have been initiated by me, but I don’t think that’s being dominant in the same fetishized way.

I often wonder what makes me seem like someone who would do the dominating and not the other way around. I honestly have always felt a little bit more submissive. I want someone to throw me up against the wall and tell me who’s boss, but it just doesn’t seem to happen for me.

This is especially true with all of the women I have ever been with. I was the one to initiate. I feel like with a women, especially a femme, I must be the protector, I must be the big spoon, the “top” in the relationship. It could just be because I am physically larger than most women.

Getting everything you want does sound mighty nice though. It’s better than never getting what you want. Sitting aside and watching someone else take away the person you want time and time again. Not knowing what to do or how to be more attractive or appealing.

I have always struggled with my own confidence, especially sexually. I feel like I find a person that I want, fuck them immediately, and never talk to them ever again OR I become friends and never anything more. There is no in between.

Fuck this life, time to break that cycle. I’m not even looking for a relationship. I want someone to care about me differently than they care about others. I won’t go as far as wanting to be worshipped but of course I want to be respected. Tell them what I want and get it.

I do look sexy in leather.

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Today I woke up in a cuddle pile with some of my all time favorite humans in the world: my soul friends. They inspire me to new depths of creativity, I want to travel the world with them, love and respect them forever, and always have time to meet them at random times and places and sit down to reminisce about their adventures and our conjoined memories. They are my roommates, my longtime friends, my inspiration to pinup culture, the girl who inspired my Monroe piercing and lust for travel, the people who create my favorite music, new friends, and past lover

The patterns and techinicolor of the John Waters movie made me feel like I was tripping, we were in the movie. His films have inspired the people and art that has influenced me. It was fucking magical. I even made spontaneous plans to go see him in New Orleans in December, I will meet John Waters and finally be discovered, it’s my new life plan.

Last night was also one of the best and most inspired shows I have ever had, The Stripteasers and I danced our hearts out, leaving the frustrations of our daily lives at the door and truly transforming for our audience. I performed in raunchy drag to Adam Sandler’s Thanksgiving Song and it was epic. I spent way too much money on the most epic turkey hat and made some pretty adorable turkey pasties (get it, “turkey breasts,” ahhh). Cock Sinclair was in a fantasy land.

cat thanksgiving 2I did a live version of the song and the laugh track from the live audience made me feel so empowered. It was perfect, I almost want to add a laugh/clap track to all of my songs. That way even if nobody likes the show I will still have positive vibes. There have been only a three or so times where I have felt the total roar of an audience like Adam Sandler felt during that live show. On the bar in the red glow of Nietzsches I pulled a turkey baster and a very phallic turkey decoration out of my plush penis and seductively t-bagged the unsuspecting onlookers.

Buffalo LGBTQ Pride 2015 was one of the best days of my life. I stuffed a gas station apple pie full of magic mushrooms while I was wrapped up in a giant rainbow pride flag attached to my adult tricycle that was parked literally steps away from a police officer. I rode around that day feeling like the parade was for me.

The highest point of the day was performing in the tent at the main event. I was sandwiched between fabulous up and coming local drag queens. I danced to the Backstreet Boys’ Larger than Life and pulled my infamous rubber fist (her name is Ivana Punishu) out of my pants.

The crowd converged on me. It was a feeling like no other. There was a moment of panic when I realized that I did not remove my swamp ass bike shorts before the show… I took them off and there was definitely a wet spot, but nobody noticed because the rubber fist distracted them. I thought I was going to be lifted up to crowd surf like at a Warped Tour. During the climax of the song I took a magnum condom out of my pocket and put it on the giant rubber fist.

I was told right before the performance that the show was supposed to be PG-13… well clearly I was more NC-17…. and it was perfection. I enjoy pushing all of the boundaries that I can. It was an incredible moment in my life.

Some other moments of greatness involved three becoming one… lets just say there was a lot of alcohol and heavy petting involved. It was incredible for me to finally have the two people I wanted most.

I had known that I was bisexual since high school (even sooner than that really, just not acknowledged, maybe even as young as kindergarten), but I had never had the opportunity to have both genders at the same time. It was fucking magical.

I had just gotten out of an emotionally abusive long term relationship and was brand new in the burlesque scene, I drove a van, I was an assistant manager at my favorite clothing store Torrid, and in art school at the University of Buffalo. I was inspired to create some of the most prolific and large scale art of my life.

It changed me as a person. I grew so much that year artistically and sexually. I have not explored a relationship like that since. I realize that it’s all I want, the right person to take on the world with. I need a man that I can pick up women with, a woman I can pick up men with, or even one of each.

I don’t think that’s greedy, I just see other people doing it and then I remember the happiest time of my youth. I was at a party out of town last week in a similar cuddle puddle.

cat fashionThe real best day of my life was during a fashion show called Mass Appeal. The whole reason for this blog is partially because of Facebook’s new “memory” feature. It showed me a photo from two years ago when I was wearing a corset made out of pizza crust, a grease sheet skirt and pizza box train.

I had a giant mohawk with extensions and epic glittery shoes that easily put me over six feet. I was the only plus size model in the show. I remember wearing this corset and feeling like a greased pig. I walked to the end of the runway and took bite of a slice and the crowd ignited. I felt like I was at a Bills  game and not a bourgeois fashion show.

I got what I wanted that day. I have always fantasized about having a mohawk. It was my power. I was invincible. I remember walking through the sea of perfect tiny models after taking off my costume. I was practically naked, wearing only small red “pepperoni” pasties, my blatant imperfections and a thong as I made my way to the bathroom after the runway. I had never felt as beautiful as I did that day.

Tonight is a full moon. It is also the anniversary of the best day of my life. I am working, but I have some amazing things lined up for this evening. My boobs look great in this dress. I am going to dance, laugh, and love like today is the new best day of my life.

I stood on the roof and smoked a bowl as the sun set on my beautiful city and breathed in the crisp fall air (warmer than usual) and felt that same invincibility that I felt on stage two years ago. I came into work at the hostel and two guys from Indonesia checked in and immediately wanted to take a selfie with me. I guess Im looking memorable today. I can’t wait to take on the night.

Tomorrow I am going to have my entire family over, this is my time to go nuts and be free. It’s hard to be happy when all we see in the world is pain and despair, there is so much evil that we must cherish our moments of bliss, it may not last forever.

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Many people view women as the taker in most sexual situations, the one who gets fucked, never the fucker. Well, they are mistaken. Although our anatomy is designed to receive we can add a little artificial stimulation to the game in the form of a strap on phallus. Pegging is the slang term for a woman being the giver in an anal sex situation with a man.

I personally love being the penetrator, I have used a strap on or dildo with only three people, two men and one woman. It was so sexy to be in charge of the moans. I definitely see myself as a “power bottom” when it comes to sex and love getting on top and riding as well, but sticking it in and literally getting your dick wet is a power like no other. I can see why men enjoy having penises. Having this thing hanging off of you, ready to push your seed into another being and take control over the intimacy.

Pegging is a lot of work! Its hot, but its hard! Total body work out. You really become thankful for all the glorious pounding that has been done to you over the years. I definitely was dripping in sweat. At one point I flexed like in American Psycho, because, well, I had to. I felt very masculine and it was absolutely exhilarating. Its beautiful to be solely in charge of someone else’s pleasure.

Most straight men are shy or embarrassed about wanting anal penetration from their partner. That’s just plain dumb. If it feels good and it’s what you want, get it bro!

In my experience, the subject doesn’t come up right away, a level of trust needs to be built first. It is not emasculating to have your prostate poked by your lover, it is satisfying and beautiful. I have experienced that most men do enjoy at least a finger in the ass during oral sex, and somehow that’s not embarrassing and not (gasp) gay.

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Women aren’t the only ones with vibrators. Besides pocket pussies and Fleshlights, many “straight” men already have dildos and butt plugs that we don’t know about. It doesn’t make them enjoy having sex with a woman any less or even mean that they are necessarily attracted to men. It just means that they know what they want and reach orgasm from butt play. Simple as that.

It is again fucked up that we live in a society where people are still so scared to be classified as homosexual. Gender and sexuality are so fluid that it doesn’t at all matter where you end up on the Kinsey scale or what you identify as.

For me it is all ever changing and I honestly don’t know what I really want. Only through experimentation and actually getting out there and fucking people in a variety of ways will I find out what really turns me on and gets me off.

I remember being a young teenager and meeting a couple that defied social norms and it changed my life. She was a cousin of a friend, late 20s, and she identified as a lesbian. Her boyfriend was a cis gendered man who identified as gay. She fucked him and they worked. Labels don’t mean shit.

In all the cases it was my partner who brought up the idea of pegging. I am a big woman and have often found lovers that want me to dominate them in some way. This sex act definitely gives you a dominating power, leaving the other person more vulnerable and literally more open than ever before. I’m not going to say they enjoyed the sex more than I did, but they all writhed in pleasure. You have to be very gentle, ease it in, fuck how you would want to be fucked.

It seems like in many cases pegging is just living out a fantasy and being adventurous for one night only. Men may also go outside of the relationship to fulfill this fantasy with someone who is in the BDSM or kink scene just because they are embarrassed or don’t think their partner will understand. Just like anything, communication is the key to success.

Start easy, use small toys and butt plugs to get him ready, don’t just jam a giant punishing cock in there right away. I used a different strap on for each partner, it is special, something you should shop for together. Not like with real cocks where you can’t detach and change it up.

You can really personalize the size, shape, texture, material, and even color of your faux dick. Lube is also very important since the anus does not produce the same natural lubricants as a vagina. You want it to slide in and out with ease, any friction would make the whole thing painful.

It’s important to break down the culturally prescribed gender roles as much as we can. Nobody can tell anybody how to be a woman or be a man. There is no specific set of rules.

If you do what you want it means that you experience things that others will never even try. It’s a shared control, it’s a trust. It doesn’t mean you are less of a woman or he is less of a man. You just have made your own rules and chosen your own sexual adventure.