It has happened.
Thinking of getting your beef curtains trimmed?
It is as if someone has handed a beaming stick of light to Mr. Savage and said “Sonny Boy, within this here said stick lies the power to create meaning and intention within language. By me giving you this glowing wand of awesome, you will kick ass in so many ways.”
And he took that stick. Did he ever take that stick. (All innuendo intended.)
As I hopped onto the streetcar yesterday, I chose a seat that was pleasing to my personal Feng-Shui and happened upon NOW magazine flipped open to the back wherein lies the never tiring Savage Love column.
Rick Santorum is running a presidential campaign. This is him on military and gay.
Google ‘Rick Santorum’ and the second link down is where you can witness the power of Dan Savage.
‘Spreading Santorum’ is now defined as “the frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the by-product of anal sex.”
Now, it is a personal goal to try and avoid fighting fire with fire, and I’m not going to say that I necessarily support the mission of turning someone’s name into a visually and viscerally unappealing sort of sexual discharge. But, reading this last article in NOW, I have to say, not only was I kind of really impressed (as I march forward altering the negative associations revolving around the word ‘slut’) but I laughed heartily in public, and that, to me, is like a distant telepathic high-five to Mr. Savage.
“You know what gave me a sad? Reading about Janice Langbehn and Lisa Pond. The women, together 18 years, were vacationing in Florida […] when Pond suffered an aneurysm. Langbehn and [their] children were barred from Pond’s room when they arrived at the hospital. A social worker informed Langbehn – who was distraught – that she wouldn’t be able to see her wife because they were in an ‘anti-gay city and state.'”
A Twitter commenter: Time to follow through on your threat to redefine ‘rick,’ Dan.
“Already done: to ‘rick’ is to remove something with your tongue – the ‘r’ from ‘remove,’ and the ‘ick’ from ‘lick’ – which makes ‘rick santorum” the most disgusting two-word sentence in the English language after “vote Repuplican.”
Tell me you didn’t laugh. At least a little.
It has been a tumultuous roller-coaster of awesome.
My mother feels differently…
But, of all the people who have come and gone and had a gander at this here said blog, and specifically particular post in which I am in the buff, the impact has been heavily positive. And this, and only this, is what I hope to send out into the world.
“If we all saw each others nakedness, we could just get on with so much living…”
– A 30-something male commenter.
All you weinerheads want something from me. And, as an aspiring information provider, I will do my darnedest to give it to you… Falling short of actually having sex with you… Unless the circumstances arise.
There is much to be talked about (which ultimately requires me to turn this into my full-time, unpaid, job), but I’d like to answer one question I seem to be getting asked a lot: How do you feel about ‘___________’ seeing you naked though?!
Yeah. That happened. For the next week, every day I walked into work there were a new set of eyes leering at me. It doesn’t help that I work at a diner (they call themselves a ‘restaurant’… yeah… sure) and the kitchen staff all come from various parts of India and have heavy accents and ten kids. So, after word got round, and now that everyone has an iPhone, the entire staff was well aware of what I look like naked. Even though I specifically asked my male co-workers not to mention it to the manager (who they often go drinking with), lets be serious. It’s the internet. People are gunna see what you want to avoid showing them. So I just gave a sleazy smile, raised an eyebrow and walked away.
It just so happens that working everyday allows for the occurrence of ‘regulars’ who eventually ask what is you do besides carrying heavy plates and dealing with Toronto’s best found gems. And there are times when I try and dodge the question by just saying ‘I write.’ And I don’t even know why I do this seeing as the next question is ALWAYS: “What do you write about?” And there goes that awesome cover story, Caitlin. Anyhow, you try saying you have a sex blog without anyone asking what the name of your website is. It just doesn’t work. Sex brings people together. A million dollars says that if I told them I had a blog about the effects of hydro-oxychloride on the grass in Egypt, no one would ever ask what the link was. My ‘regulars’ are adults and either ignore what they’ve seen, high-five me, or never come back to the ‘restaurant’ again.
Insert: Family members
My mothers side, who have all stewed in a good dose of religion in their childhoods, do not know. Or if they do, they aren’t saying anything. I’m trying not to give my Babi a heart attack. My mother, after having accepted that it was happening, just begged that I didn’t go on to show my vulva off to the whole wide world of the internet (who knows, Mom).
My father is a special type of human being in which he is vaguely aware of what is going on outside his immediate arm length unless it is concerning him winning the lottery. His reaction, if he had one would be: “Look. We’re all monkeys.”
When it comes down to it, we all have naked bodies. OH MY GAWD.
I know, right!?
Each of us is unique, but take away all the particulars and we’s have all got a fleshy self under those layers of cotton. A fleshy self that we had no say in how it turned out. All we have been responsible for is how we treat the body we have been given (intake of food stuffs, physical movement, orgasm supply, etc). So. Get naked. Is what I have to say about that.
I’d like to scorn the media.
But who wouldn’t these days. The only thing I can tell you with all my heart: DON’T RELY ON THE MEDIA WHEN IT COMES TO LEARNING ABOUT SEX.
Rely on me. Completely. Your unwavering faith in me can’t possibly go wrong.
Or, if you don’t like me enough to rely on me (which is more than likely, either because of my in-your-face personality or my affinity towards horizontal stripes), then put your faith into this woman:
Betty Dodson is 83. Eighty fucking three. My grandmother is 83 and just came out of the hospital from heart surgery. This woman. This woman is teaching women how to masturbate.
How flippin’ awesome is that.
Betty Dodson and her business partner, Carlin Ross, have just released documentary footage of one of their Bodysex Workshops.
Caitlin! (I hear you bellow) What is a Bodysex Workshop?! Continue reading “A Whole New World: Bodysex Workshop with Dodson & Ross”