Dirty Sheets

Author Archive

Shea Meier posted the following:

Here's what I will do:

Write honestly.
Write the characters I love, as human beings.
Tell the story that I meant to tell.
Do my best to make each voice authentic to the character I'm writing.

Here's what I won't do:

Use my sexuality as an excuse to write what I write.
Let someone else erase my sexuality or gender as a way to discredit what I write.
Stop telling the stories I want to tell because someone insists that I'm not queer enough.

Other than having trouble writing the story that I wanted/intended to tell on the first go-round, I am happy to point at this and say 'Me too!' None of us would be sitting here, discussing this, if our antecedents sighed and gave up the second someone else told them they couldn't do whatever it was they were thinking of doing.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write. I have a bunch of queer stories I really need to get finished some time before the turn of the century.

Next time someone trots some tired saw about how gay people shouldn't be allowed to marry for [whatever specious reasoning], smack them upside the head with this: lefties shouldn't be allowed to marry either! (Video at linked page.)

I've only written one thing for National Masturbation Month (to date, anyhow). Next month is Pride, and I have a couple ideas for it already, but… I'm kind of miffed with myself about having missed most of May. 

Speaking of Pride, a local movie house is going to be showing Priscilla, Queen Of The Desert — I need to remember to get myself a ticket. 

I'm not sure what I was trying to accomplish, with the silence, but it didn't work. So, I'll resume posting the random contents of my brain — you have been warned. 

In fact, I'll start now: I stumbled across this site. One of the recurring themes of the site is 'OMG people do stuff with breast milk BESIDES feed it to small children! People do things like make cheese out of human breast milk! EW, how disGUSting! Ew, ew, EEEEW!"

Look, so I think that erotic lactation is an odd kink, but if it's your kink, go for it. Would I try human-breast-milk cheese? Yeah, actually, I would. Wanna know why? BECAUSE HUMANITY CONSUMES TONS OF COW'S-, GOAT'S-, and SHEEP'S-BREAST-MILK. EVERY DAY. (Also yak, camel, and various kinds of buffalo milks, too, I know.) Most people would probably think that drinking directly from the source is gross, but it's just milk. We survived for thousands of years on the fresh milk of herd livestock. 

It's milk. Just because it comes out of a human doesn't make it dirty or wrong or disgusting. It's unusual, yes, but disgusting? No. 

Or something like that.

So I'm shutting up.

I will see you later, but don't hold your breath or anything.

The on-screen keyboard was awful — I got punctuation in the middle of my sentences, where I didn't want/need it; I also didn't like the auto-correct feature. 

The other thing I'm not keen on is the way Apple has set themselves up as arbiters of decency. Steve Jobs himself has stated that Apple is offering "freedom from porn". At what point does porn begin? At what point does their control end? Will there be a requirement in the future that apps must have a built in censor/filter, so that if I were to try to write a sex scene, it would refuse to show all those porny words? What if it was as indiscriminate as some bulletin-board censoring software, so that one could not write anything about the breastular Hitchrooster(ian) bottomistant? 

I am an adult. I am perfectly capable of determining what offends me, what disturbs me, and what I want to spend my money on. 

I have parents, a mother and a father each. (I also have a step-mother, so technically I've got THREE parents!) There is no reason that I need a stranger nor a corporation to parent me. Much like Amazon's GLBTQ?-book rankings #amazonfail, this is an unimpressive imposition of someone else's morals on myself. 

It's one thing entirely if I am a minor answering to my own parents; it is another entirely to have a complete stranger claiming that I do not, cannot know what is good for me, what is good for my own family. I have things on my personal laptop that I would be mortified to have my mother see, but it is MY laptop. I use it; I am, as an adult, responsible solely for myself and the content of my computer. 

It would be the same were I to have children. If there was something I didn't want them to see, I would be a PARENT and do my job to make sure they didn't see it, until they were either mature enough or old enough that I no longer had any legal responsibility to do so. I would not leave my children to the tender mercies of Steve Jobs, because he is not part of my family. His personal moral crusade is not my personal moral crusade, therefore I see no reason that he should be part of my parenting decisions — outside of choosing NOT to expose my children to his PMC as a positive thing. 

1) Guys really do seem to be obsessed with size — as in, male authors tend to make sure you know exactly how big the guy's ('tagonist of whichever side or mere fucktoy) willy is. (Whenever I encounter things like that in my porn, I get this image of a person with a micrometer and a clipboard.) Female authors, on the other hand, not so much.

And Mr. Hanon is correct in that there are exceptions to this; I've seen at least two recently. 

2) In relation to the foregoing, the article about pegging mentions that anything going into the anus feels twice as large as it actually is. This makes me even more convinced that anyone who carries on about a cock two beer-cans* long and a tuna-can wide before it goes into an orifice has NO CLUE what that would actually feel like. (I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I** couldn't accommodate something that freakin' huge. And I am dead certain none of my characters could, either.)

I'm relieved to hear that there are people out there who think over-the-top descriptions of outsized equipment on a dude are just silly — I was beginning to wonder if maybe some of my rejections were based on the fact that I've never actually lovingly described any of my guys' bits and pieces in excruciating detail. (And you know me, if I was going to be detailed, I'd be talking about millimeters and degrees of cant and that kind of thing. Heh.)

* By 'beer can' I mean your standard US 12 ounce can, not like a Foster's or a Heinekin mini-keg.

** Yeah, I know, there are men/women out there who take on things like the business end of a Louisville slugger, among other large, more-or-less phallic, items. This is why I make a point of I-statements — because I am the only one I can talk about with any kind of authority. 

that so many guys are complaining about/ranting about/viciously attacking the relative attractiveness of Chris Crocker's penis. 

Dudes. It's a penis. They're inherently funny-looking. Have you ever seen one? Better yet, look at some pictures featuring two or more penises. They ALL look weird! They're not gorgeous! They are weird fleshy protuberances! Foreskin or no, they. Are. Bizarre. 

Not that vulvae are any more attractive in the cold light of day, mind you. They're all…flappy and floppy and strange. 

Anyhow. *waves a hand* Not that I think either set of genitals is evil or anything, it's just that they're all equally strange-looking. 

Also for the record: I have no objection to Crocker's appearance from the neck down (reminds me of someone else on Tumblr, actually); from the neck up I recommend some quality time with a comb/brush and possibly a slightly different way of using makeup. Other than the infamous 'Leave Britney Alone' video (which I have never seen), I know nothing about Crocker and can therefore offer no opinion one way or the other. 

Oh, here's an important thing to know, though: I'm not dead! I've just been very busy with writing about Chris and Jesse.