therumpus.net
Belle De Jour Is The New Pretty Woman - The Rumpus.net
http://therumpus.net/2009/11/belle-de-jour-is-the-new-pretty-woman
Let the doctors worry about healthcare and the criminals worry about crime. Get Our Overly Personal. Letters In The Mail. Belle de Jour Is the New Pretty Woman. November 26th, 2009. Pick any political debate or news article about prostitution, and there’s a high probability there’ll be a quote along the lines of It’s a far cry from Pretty Woman. As if that’s going to come as a surprise. As if everyone doesn’t already bloody know that. The pseudonymous blog, Belle de Jour: Diary of a London Call Girl.
geniustown.blogspot.com
Genius Town: whatever
http://geniustown.blogspot.com/2007/11/whatever.html
Wednesday, November 14, 2007. Well, listen. It's been more than a month since I posted to this thing. I can be non-monogamous with who I make out with, but I don't think I'll ever be able to be faithful to more than one blog. Remember when I was writing about how this was gonna be my grown-up blog? Turns out the internet is for children and I'm deeply, deeply immature. This is gonna be my goddam blog for the rest of my life, I bet: jnnogen.livejournal.com. Would that really be so bad? 02/15 - 02/22 (1).
geniustown.blogspot.com
Genius Town: check in
http://geniustown.blogspot.com/2007/09/check-in.html
Monday, September 10, 2007. It's stupid though. It's frustrating! I have been looking around this ol internet, its emptry electronic alleys and parking lots, expecting to feel empowered and excited the way I did a long time ago. But I don't. It's a habit: I look at strap-on. And just feel kind of sad; I look at trueselves. And I just want to yell at everybody; internet news always feels biased or pointless or, at best, masturbatory. All I care about is bookslut. I mean, I know, right? Wait, I lost the po...
geniustown.blogspot.com
Genius Town: fancy and toxic
http://geniustown.blogspot.com/2007/09/fancy-and-toxic.html
Sunday, September 2, 2007. This, also, is from Shelley Jackson's Half-Life. Which I am still reading because I read slowly. But which makes me stoked that I read slowly! Because I'm glad I haven't finished it yet. Her stiff skirt showed dirty white lines where the caked shit stretched, cracked, and the fabric showed through. Once it had been a party dress, cheap and frilly and synthetic. It was the sort of dress Granny called "fire-retarded"- it would kindle all at once with a fwhomp. 02/15 - 02/22 (1).
everyoneieverkissed.wordpress.com
#184 | Everyone I Ever Kissed
https://everyoneieverkissed.wordpress.com/2009/12/10/184
Everyone I Ever Kissed. Chronicles of the anti-suave. 8220;Nine, are you a good kisser? It was about a month since I’d split up with #182. 184 and I were at QueerMutiny, drinking at a table near the dancefloor. 8220;I don’t know. I mean, people have said so before, but I’ve just been kissing the same person for two years, so I don’t know if that’s affected my technique.” #184 lunged forward and kissed me before I knew what was happening. 8220;You’re all right,” he concluded. 8221; I guess it was me.
everyoneieverkissed.wordpress.com
#86 | Everyone I Ever Kissed
https://everyoneieverkissed.wordpress.com/2009/02/15/86
Everyone I Ever Kissed. Chronicles of the anti-suave. 86 was this gay boy who I had this total crush on. I mean, okay, I had a crush on #68. But it didn’t really get in the way that much, whereas with #86 I was completely anti-suave and actually quite inappropriate. It was the darnedest thing. There was just something about him. I blithered about him drunkenly to people: I mean, he’s just so fucking real. I could work with this! But I couldn’t really. I kissed him at a party at #84. Leave a Reply Cancel ...
everyoneieverkissed.wordpress.com
#211 | Everyone I Ever Kissed
https://everyoneieverkissed.wordpress.com/2011/01/11/211
Everyone I Ever Kissed. Chronicles of the anti-suave. Turned up at the Regent looking very eighties and I explained to him that after closing time the two of us were going to head up the Royal Mile and find ourselves a house party to get invited into. It didn’t work, although we met someone or other in the street – a friend of his? Who knows – who had just left a late-night venue, and showed us the mark on their hand to prove they’d paid in. #184 and I shot in to the bar where #110. I passed someone who ...
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