...apparently.
because, truthfully? i don't really know what people are talking about with the facial this and de-rigeur deep throat that. i don't watch het pr0n! i don't (usually) fuck men!
and you know what that means, right?
that's wight, wabbit!
I HATE MEN.
or, no, more accurately: their genitalia repulse me deeply. boy, do male genitalia repulse me! not to mention the substances they emit! let me tell you JUST HOW MUCH THEY REPULSE ME.
(four encyclopediac volumes later)
...whew.
that said, i know nozzing about penetration, or power games. or exhibitionism, or fetishes, or dancin' sexy, or threesomes or moresomes, or liking to suck, or reading/writing lusty stories, or lookin' at naughty pictures, or anal sex!
(not to mention abusive behavior, of any sort)
i probably never even would have IMAGINED such things, were it not for the MENZ and their pr0n (which i don't look at, but apparently some of the women i had sex with did at some point; where else could they possibly have gotten those ideas?)
excuse me, did i say "had sex with?" i meant, "soulfully gazed into each other's eyes and communed with a gaze of lovingkindness and keening high-pitched sounds inaudible to all but ears purified of all patriarchal taint, dolphins, and bats.
and touched pinkies, once.
and then processed the experience over a nice hot fucking cup of lapsang soochong. for six days.
and then went to marches. and boy was that ever a powerful experience! march, march, march! chant, chant, chant! boy, if there's anything more satisfying than shouting in righteous anger and perfect harmony with one's sisters, I sure can't think of it.
well, maybe the oolong, extra-steeped.
but really that's only for special occasions.
anyway i'm trying to cut back. it interferes with my innate wisdom, and also makes me have to piss every five minutes. still, we can't all be perfect, obviously. the important thing is that we try to purge all the negative, external influences from our lives, and regularly confess in a public place how we're not measuring up. i know that. otherwise how could i possibly critique my sisters? if i weren't at least three times as critical of myself? why, i couldn't. and then god only knows what would happen.
now if you'll excuse me, i'm off to howl at the moon and compost myself, not necessarily in that order.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
10 comments:
(four encyclopediac volumes later)
Ha!!
(I know. Shortest comment ever.)
butbutbut it CAN'T be hetcentric, because four out of (mumble) self-identified lesbian feminists agree! patriarchal sex must be rigorously examined before engaged in, if at all. preferably by non-hierarchical committee. hummus should be served. and no resolution should be reached, but at least two women must erupt in stormy drama with one stomping out the door in high dudgeon. and then everyone else must laugh nervously and pretend nothing happened, because if there's anything more dubious than patriarchal expressions of sex, it's open conflict and direct expressions of anger; to engage in either means, inevitably, that This Is A Serious And Possibly Fatal Rupture.
see tahts what i get for beinga i virgin Ithough the goal was to share love( if so inclined) and get off . I am stupid and un feminist
The funniest thing about this is that R. Mildred was one of the most blatantly pro-blowjob people when Twisty declared that oral sex was sexist. I guess radical feminism means you get to pass bullshit off as analysis about things you don't like and attack people who do the same about things you like.
I remember once looking at a young woman and feeling this warm feeling deep inside and realizing in horror that I had participating in The Objectifying Gaze and so I ran home and started whipping my back with a bouquet of organic roses to repent but then my Wymyns Stydyys professor came in because she moved in with me once she read my essay on Georgia O'Keefe and she stopped me and said that I had to love and respect myself first and then I would realize that MEN made me use that Objectifying Gaze in the first place, and so I felt so much better that we spent the rest of the evening gazing at one another in a non-objective kind of way and sighing blissfully, sharing our auras with such passion that I feel sorry for all those people who have to settle for intercourse and oppress themselves in the process.
</bulwar-lytton>
I can't possibly touch pinkies with anyone who would even joke about such a thing.
promises, promises, B|L.
you're such a tease.
oh, I'm feeling all, I don't know -- melty I guess I could say. The floaty beautiful memory of those endless six-day processing sessions is making me feel all non-linear and yeah I'll have another cup of tea, sure, just half a cup, yeah I really shouldn't but do you remember that one day -- it was just so beautiful when we were walking the dogs and then we went back to your house and shared that bowl of tofu-brown rice-stirfry stuff and we washed the dishes together -- I loved how it all just flowed so beautifully and you didn't even get upset when I put the dishes away in the wrong cupboard and your rice bowl touched your carnivorous roomate's plate and how the next day I went out and bought you that beautiful womyn-made pottery rice bowl so you didn't have to take on the karmic responsibility of your roommate's dead animal flesh habit.
And then, yeah, it was when we were both on the education & outreach committee for the shelter project and we spent all those nights together putting together the brochures -- I loved how your design was so perfect and the pages didn't have to go in any particular order because that is just so rigid and patriarchal, that insistence on a fixed sequence.
But I just want to own my shame, here -- maybe it's my internalized homophobia or something but I really overreacted that time you reached across the table and I was just almost falling into your beautiful soft gaze but then I saw your pinky extended and I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I just didn't know how to respond. I really should have said something then because I know now that you must have left feeling --- wait, what am I saying? I can't know your experience! I have no idea what you were feeling but I feel afraid that you thought I was rejecting you. I mean, I know it was years ago. I felt so connected with you but I didn't know how to act on it outside of an objectifying patriarchal paradigm.
Yeah, sure, more tea -- thanks.
I'll be right back, I gotta pee.
Don't forget the romantic renting of the U-Haul truck together. Followed by buying a cat together.
But seriously, I've spent a lot of time on the streets with signs. Chanting. But never in the context of getting laid, so dunno where that puts me in the lesbian framework.
oh my god, this is all too hilarious
Post a Comment