Web MD

One of the gentleman from the gang bangs recently recommended Paying for It by Chester Brown. Luckily for me, said gentleman is also a librarian, so I've got the comic on a bit of an outside-the-law inter-library loan. Briefly, the story's about a gentleman that has sex with prostitutes. I like it because it's not just, "look at me I did this thing." The story's not interesting just because he has sex with prostitutes, but because of the way he thinks about it. Brown's got some serious opinions about relationships, sex, and prostitution. There's a pretty significant Afterword portion I'm looking forward to, but in the meantime the comic's brought up a lot already that's made my mind pretty busy.

Also speaking of the gang bangs, for the past week or so, I've had really mild middle ear pain. Not anything unlivable, but it was incessant enough that I figured it was worth seeing a doctor about. After peering into my ear, the doctor said there wasn't anything he could see and that everything seemed fine. Recommended Ibuprofin and hot compresses; if symptoms persist seek further medical attention. He then asked if I'd engaged in any "strenuous jaw activity" lately. Apparently, pain from the jaw joint can manifest in the ear. Inside my head, I asked whether sucking dick for about an hour and a half counts as "strenuous." I'd been the designated fluffer at the last gang bang, and had dicks in or around my mouth for a pretty significant amount of the party. For those of you who are hollering about how don't I usually have dicks in and around my mouth at the party, and how was this any different, fluffing is incredibly different than typical party activities. First, position. Typical party participation means I'm either on my back, on my hands and knees, or some variation, and my mouth isn't always directly fuckable. Fluffing means I'm kneeling the entire time, and there's really not a lot of other options for where the dick is going to go except for into my mouth. (It's worth noting that after this party I was particularly sore in my thighs from kneeling for so long, while after a regular party I'm usually more sore in my abs (because frequent and intense orgasms.))

I'm not a real doctor, so I'm not saying that I gave myself an earache from giving too much head. I also didn't ask the actual doctor I was seeing, so I can't even recount for you what his face looked like when asked such a thing. Based entirely upon watching House, I like to imagine that it's pretty difficult to shock doctors; they've seen and/or heard variances upon human stupidity the likes of which the general populace can't even begin to imagine. Still, there are certain things even I don't feel appropriate to ask outside of these illusory internet ramblings.

Sugar and spice

Side-note before we begin this entry: I had to recently text all the ladies I work with about how Frisbee went out with a lady to watch Interstellar. (I legitimately had to Google the name of the movie just now, that's how little I care about the film. That's relevant to later things in this entry.) Once he got home, Frisbee first spent a good amount of time updating Now-hubby on how the movie was before talking with me about all the specifics of the date. I felt it necessary to text the ladies I work with about this lest they continue to imagine my little poly household looks like this:

Relevant parenthetical be relevant. I actually cared quite a bit about Frisbee going out to this movie, because it's sort of the first "outside" date that he's been on since we've more formally established our relationship. I set a few boundaries before he went: text me once he got to the movie theater and then after the movie in regards to whether he would be coming home or maybe he and the lady would be continuing the date in some fashion. He wound up coming home after the movie; we talked, and after a bit of processing time on my part, went over the things that are important to me going forward. Mainly that I be kept updated if they make any other plans together, and that I know if things change in any way either physically or emotionally between the two of them. First dates are weird, and it feels over-ambitious for me to already be anticipating the future for Frisbee and her. However, I've also come to recognize more concretely the things that I can reasonably ask for to help me feel included and still loved as the men in my life pursue other relationships.

All that aside, I cared very little about the actual movie they went to see. Unless it had been something I had actively wanted to see with Frisbee, the choice of film for this date did not matter at all. The fact that it was Interstellar (just had to scroll back up to remember the name) was almost a win-win. I don't care at all about the specifics of that movie, so I was more free to focus on the particulars of the date itself.

Which leads us to the main point of this entry, which is me being an incredibly judgmental douche on an almost daily basis.

I don't want to talk specifically, either, about movies. I want to talk about how I've grown to be almost immediate with my judgements, and how I tend to stick with them.

I'm an heiress to the Haterade empire. As early as third grade summer camp there was a girl in my bunk who spent every night crying homesick and me internally:

I guess what I'm getting at is I'm an acerbic bitch and I don't make any apologies for it. On the whole it's actually been incredibly helpful as I've cut through the majority of people I don't actually want to try and maintain some form of "relationship" with. Much like my approach to sexual contact, being direct with people I'm not interested in has been incredibly beneficial in that it establishes rather quickly a baseline with which to work from. Outside of the sexual realm, being conversationally unavailable with people I find just generally uninteresting has also proven beneficial in that I'm not wasting a bunch of time keeping up with inane conventions.

One notable example being this most recent gang bang, where there was a feature porn star attending. I went in expecting the men to be stupid (because omg a lady who enjoys sex so much she actually made it her profession what an oddity). I went in comfortable with the inflated ticket price for attendance (because a lady who's profession is sex deserves to be compensated for her talents). I went in with absolutely no expectations as to who this woman would actually be. Within the first hour of her being at the party and actually listening to her speak, I had formed my judgement based solely on her as a person, and spent the rest of the party biting my tongue and trying not to be in the same space as her for too long. It was a bit different, as anybody being paid an appearance fee is immediately suspect as far as genuineness. So I won't go into specifics and just leave it that I didn't think I'd get along particularly well with this woman.

Given years of practice, I'm skillfully quick at passing judgment. I'm also incredibly rigid once I've made a decision. But despite everything else, I'm rarely outwardly, openly cruel to other people. Which is why the majority of the time (outside of this blog) I prefer to not say anything at all.

The kind you don't take home to mother

Dell trying to Pretty Woman the gay prostitute in American Horror Story: Freak Show this week reminded me that I wanted to write an entry about Pretty Woman. Not so much the movie with Richard Gere and Julia Roberts, but the way that I've verbed the noun to mean any attempt to take a sex worker and "relationship" them.

As part of The German and I's new routine, we've been Google chatting and watching The Wire on Sunday afternoons. He's seen the entire series probably the same amount of times I've watched Queer as Folk (see: several). This is my first time through The Wire, and we've gotten to about the halfway point of season 2.

No spoilers, but there's a character in season 1 who works at a strip club and winds up being an informant for the police squad. By season 2, she's officially in a relationship with one of the detectives and wearing appropriate turtlenecks in his lavishly outfitted domicile.

There's a particular characteristic to this characterization that drives me crazy. It's the idea that there's only two types of sex workers in the world: the "good" ones who are just trying to make money until they can find something better, and the "freak" ones who actually enjoy the sex aspect of sex work. It's as though the latter have absolutely no idea what a sensible turtleneck even looks like, and don't have any interests beyond inspiring men with erections to sling dollars up on the stage.

It's completely impossible to be a "wild" woman and also be in a relationship. I'm pretty sure Shardene from The Wire had to tame shit down in the bedroom even though that's not the type of sex she's into, just because "good" girls don't actually enjoy freaky sex. In Pretty Woman, Vivian (Julia Roberts), gets to dress up fancy, attend polo matches, and eat escargot while her friend Kit...I don't know. Does a lot of coke and gets to drop in to the fancy hotel for her cut of the rent money? Which is not to say Vivian doesn't get to have good sex. If you haven't seen Pretty Woman I recommend it just purely for the piano scene.

I disagree more with the idea that once Vivian and Edward (Richard Gere) are officially "in a relationship," that type of on-top-of-a-piano sexiness can only exist as an exclusive event between them, and Vivian showing even covert outward sexiness to anybody besides Edward past this point of relationship exclusivity will be verboten. (Forgive me, The German. It's applicable.)

Hitting me right in the numbers

Were you thinking I forgot to update you on how the other Halloween party went? Nah, I just wanted to build up a bit of anticipation. So here's the details on that.

(Yes, there was a way more obvious gif choice, but I don't pander with my gif choices. Also, Columbia/Magenta is one of the best OTPs out there.)

The other Halloween party turned out to be sort of a regular persons Halloween party. You know, chips and dip, general mingling, absolutely no nakedness. Which was absolutely fine, because I got to see some great people that I haven't seen in awhile and even met a few new people that were very awesome. It was an interesting mix of folks, and I wound up connecting afterwards with some of them both on FetLife and on Facebook. Which is odd, as I tend to have a pretty strict, "no co-workers and nobody you're just looking to hook up with" rule when it comes to Facebook. So sending somebody from the party a message on Facebook about getting together to watch a movie and then maybe I could ride on their cock feels really, really weird.

There's really not as much to say about this party as there was about the first one. Not that I didn't have a good time, but I get the impression it's not as interesting to read about the conversation I had at this party about the Star Wars Christmas Special as it was to read about me going down on a woman while she gave her husband a blowjob at the other party. I know what you pervs want.