I know, this picture looks really freaky. I was cruising through the Exotic Erotic website looking at last year’s pictures — I was there last year on a lark, snuck in, and also snuck backstage — and found this bizarre photo. But what’s even stranger (than me going to Exotic Neurotic?) is that when I was at my gym last Friday, this woman was there too. I was stretching, watching this tiny Asian woman do these insane pretzel stretches, laying her head on her ass, and effortlessly doing a variety of poses standing on her hands, and thought, she looks familiar. That’s not all I thought, like, how does she have sex, and does she have a trapeze above her bed, and can she eat cereal using her feet, and… She became the nexus of a surreal moment in an already surreal environment, not just by her mesmerizing Stretch Armstrong abilities, but also because she was in full going-out makeup (and lipstick), and every time she leaned over onto her hands and slowly brought her legs up in the air, she let out a little high-pitched "wheeee!" Then last night I came across this picture again, and realized it was her. And no, she’s not wearing panties.
San Francisco is a strange and beautiful place. Especially now that all the get-rich-quick dot-com halfwits have emptied out and made room for the arts scene to grow back. Last week was a great example of that, not just for my Asian contortionist close encounter, but because I got out a little. On Tuesday evening I went to my favorite café in SF, a place I’ve been going to since I was a kid, the Blue Front. They have the best hummus in the universe, and I’ve known the family that runs it forever. After a yummy salad and a pint of local microbrew, I bought some hummus and bagels to go, and found myself in nearby Golden Gate Park, at Stow Lake. Stow is less of a lake and more of a doughnut of water with a forested island in the center that you can walk around, and I did just that, feeding the wary mallards my bagels. Feeding ducks makes me very happy, like a little kid; I do not know why. It was warm, and the sunset in the park through the trees was beautiful. On Wednesday I sat through a tedious 8-hour Good Vibes meeting (during which I etched a broken line and "cut here" across my left wrist in ink). But it was at the famed Women’s Building in the Mission, covered in a colorful mural that brings tourists far and wide to photograph it, and at the break I walked over to another great deli and bought cheese, bread and Pellegrino water. The weather was nice in the evening, so I walked over to the Lower Haight to meet with my publisher and they took me out to a fancy dinner at the Slanted Door to celebrate my video book going to press. They also told me that a certain bookseller (we’ll call them "Buns and Noodles") got very freaked out and nervous about my book, especially the cover, and cut their presale order by a twelfth! I knew we were taking a risk with the nipples on the cover, but really — well, it’s good news for everyone else who’ll carry it. But we did resolve to change the cover to a plain cover, which I’m fine with, because then it’s congruent with their "Ultimate Guide" series — and has a good chance of being placed in windows, on displays, etc. Hey, the content is still the same. Enjoy the banned bookcover that still lives here on my site.
Thursday I worked at one of the Good Vibes stores, and for some reason I felt like dressing really sexy. Tight black jeans, low-cut polka-dot halter top, long black hair down my back. It made for a very interesting workday, which culminated in an instance where one of the very sexy women who works there did something, quite naughty to me. She is a fetish model, outrageously leggy and attractive, and I’ve seen some jaw-dropping pictures of her in bondage and encased in rubber. She flirted with me all day, then, while we were standing by the S/M display, she picked up a massage candle and said she’d like to try it — on me. These candles melt into wax that can be used as massage oil, and I found out for real when she turned me around, lit the candle and dripped hot wax onto my back and shoulders. It wasn’t as hot as a regular candle, and I did tell her I like the sensation of hot wax, so it was all consensual. It was a huge turn-on, especially in public. Then she massaged the melted oil in, with a massage that was at once relaxing and exciting. Needless to say, I bought a massage candle that day, and hope to pursue further wax studies with this naughty minx, hopefully in front of a camera.
After work I went to two amazing art shows. The first one was a show that included the works of former SRL member and dear old friend of mine — and boyfriend of the amazing Susannah Breslin — Christian Ristow. It was in the scenic Tenderloin, one of the worst neighborhoods in SF, though still not worse than SOMA, where the Good Vibes offices are. The show was incredible, and I believe that Christian is one of the foremost machine artists today — his work has evolved, matured and blows others with similar work out of the water, or out of the machine shop. Christian looked great, Susannah looked even better. What a beautiful, hot hot hot woman she is — plus you know that big brain of hers is in there, wow. I only get to see her about once or twice a year at machine art shows (SRL’s or Christian’s), and I enjoyed shouting at her in the gallery over the din of machines, which is how we usually communicate in person. She shouted at me too, and that made me happy, though after the years I’ve known her, I don’t know what her normal voice sounds like. Lots of SRL people were there, and I wore my voice out talking with a very cool blogger, Cupcake, Mr. Laughing Squid, caught a glimpse of my dear friend Jack Napier, and more. Photo of Christian and his big snapping "Mouth" by Karen Marcelo. Next, it was off to the Cellspace Gallery to see a big art show of stencil artists, which was some of the best — and most culturally relevant — art I’ve seen in a long time. Friday I went to see a movie at the Red Vic in Upper Haight, the movie theater with couches and the best popcorn in town (a popcorn seasoning bar, wow!). I went with a very cute horn player from the Marching Band, and it’s a good thing I did because Rob Zombie’s House of 1000 Corpses was one of the scariest movies I’ve ever seen and I spent much of the movie up on the couch and clutching his arm. If you liked The Texas Chainsaw Massacre theme, you’ll love this movie. A super-scary double feature would be 1000 Corpses and 28 Days Later.
The weekend was spent battling the fucking evil email viruses attacking my server and mailbox, and trying to wrap up my next anthology, a collection of forbidden fantasies for couples. There are a handful of stories I’ve received that are well written yet totally unpublishable due to their content — lurid fantasies that are serious taboos. Nothing illegal, technically, but still way the fuck out there, ironically containing loving couples. I wish I could do something with them, simply because they’re such curiosities. Speaking of curiosities, I’ll end with this lovely email found in my inbox this morning. Enjoy the visuals:
Hello I am a ‘generously proportioned’ male (375 pounds) with a less than
generous penile length (4 inches erect). I seek a vendor of quality
inflatable sheep who can give away free samples as I am unemployed.
Best regards
