While Julia has been busy posting the poetry of everyone’s favorite colonialist, Rudyard Kipling, comrade-in-grift Michael Ellsberg decided Halloween would come early this year:
A woman I know wants to become a professional dominatrix, and has just requested that I train her. She has agreed to allow me to write about the process, provided I show her the writing first, give her a pseudonym and change identifying details.
I’ve been looking for my next writing project–something edgier than what I’ve done in the past.
I believe I’ve just found it.
(“What the hell do you know about training a woman to be a domme?” Fair question. There are a bunch of things about my life that, for a variety of reasons, I have not been as public about. That is about to change.
So, gold digger Jena La Flamme, bound to the St. Mark’s Cross, squealed with pleasurable delight while a naked Smellsberg, wielding a cat o’ nine tails, whipped her nether regions? Please, Michael, tell the whole world about your private life, make sure no bowel movement goes unpublished. THIS IS COURAGE! Your father must be so proud!
While the rest of us are working, raising kids, actually paying our own bills, lazy 33-year-old fucktard Rainbow Allison has finally gotten around to choosing this year’s Halloween costume:
I grew up on Rainbow Brite. It was one of the only tv shows – along with Mister Roger’s Neighborhood, My Little Pony, Carebears and … Reading Rainbow (another rainbow reference; sensing a theme here?) I watched. Pretty wholesome stuff. In fact, I really just didn’t consume much else, media wise – my parents didn’t believe in television (a worldview I very much appreciate now), so mainly I read books.
That said, Rainbow Brite had quite a profound impact on me, and I’m re-examining that impact since I gave myself the code name of “Rainbow” at Camp Grounded and Burning Man this year.
In fact, the values of the tv show Rainbow Brite deserve a closer examination: what a positive message to send to the world – that color (an analogy in my mind for self-expression, kindness, care and love) can be a force for good. A superpower, if you will.
Plus, I mean, the sassy talking sidekick pony with the rainbow mane? He’s sort of the Horse Version of Lillydog.
So obviously I need to be Rainbow Brite for Halloween.
Obviously. She’s “re-examining the impact” of a cartoon character in relation to her woo name? Jesus, I cannot imagine having this much time on my hands. Be sure to add a few condoms to your Rainbow getup, Donkey!
No meeting with St. Martin’s, just another fucking wedding and presumably some wallet chasing:
At my high school debate partner’s (Judy Tomkins) wedding in Brooklyn right now … How many people can say they went to BOTH of the high school debate partners’ weddings?! (Shout out to Andrew Roin) ! It’s a random thing to be proud of … But I am. And Judy is just as witty, hysterical, brilliant and fascinating as she was when when we became friends in seventh grade and stayed friends – even after I lost us a tournament *spectacularly* – and in a rage she told me she wouldn’t talk to me again or get over it for “at least ten years.” I’m glad she was wrong about that.
Do you know what most 30-somethings did on Thursday morning? They went to fucking work, you misshapen shit stain.
She also seems to have forgotten that she has an actual animal to take care of. Because she’s a weirdly proportioned piece of shit.