We need to start a blog so we can discuss all these sordid things!
Your comment yesterday reminded me about the time I was hanging out with my partner, waiting for some bandmates. So, we're hanging out at this bar near our house, the Blarney Stone (sister bar's in NYC-- what's it called, The Blarney Rock? ), shooting pool. L comes sauntering in like a cat that ate a mouse. She was grinning from ear to ear.
L had discovered anal play with her girlfriend. I wish I could reproduce how L put it, but it was funny, "Man," she said, "Ass is great. I love ass. Getting fingers, tongues, everything inside her. I wanted to crawl completely inside her. I'm in love."
NOw, you gotta understand where we were. The Blarney Stone is an Irish pub in the Irish section of Syracuse, the only town in the country with the green light on the top of the traffic light. Yadda. There were mostly older Irish men with ruddy faces sitting around getting loaded at 4 p.m. on Friday. Neighborhood bar. So, she says all this within earshot of, like, everyone. Oh, it was too funny. (It wasn't, actually, because that was the same bar where we were attacked because they didn't like queers!)
When we were surveying the crowd before a show, she'd look out at the audience and say to me, "Well, who am I going to fuck tonight? Let's see...."
Since she was bi--preferred women, but also loved sex with men--the whole house was hers -- or so she liked to think.
you can listen www.pulpculture.org/misc/dont.mp3 i'm too lazy to find the mp3 without skips or find the rest of the tracks.
"Finish your beer. There are sober kids in India."
-- rwmartin