Women's Week P-Town Part 1.

People fascinate me - Lesbians and Lesbian culture is especially intriguing to me - for obvious reason, I mean really… I am a "little" invested. This is my tribe, ya know?

I just spent a week in P-Town for my first ever "women's week" experience…

It has been a week of loss and recovery. By that I mean, my wallet, my car keys (2sets), my money, my phone, my id and my traveling companion.

The week began as it meant to continue, a call to the police station and an "almost" missing persons report. As the week progressed and much alcohol was consumed…2 lost purses, more lost and found police reports, a call to AAA and an ex-girlfriend… everything but my dignity was recovered.


What I really want to know is why do ex- girlfriends have to know everything, really…

Why?


In order to regain my lost belongings I was forced to place a call to my ex girlfriend who was in Atlanta Georgia with her Mother attending a family Bar- Mitzvah. It's not exactly the phone call you want to make


"Um, Hi! Yeah… it's me. I appear to have lost a couple of things, do you happen to have Sally's friends phone number… I think she may know where my shit is…"


Sure enough – she tracked down my missing items like a bloodhound. It was reminiscent of the years following our break up. I swear she would hide things from me like my favorite pair of shoes and my tax return from 1999.


"Hey, it's me! Do you happen to know where my snakeskin boots are, the ones I bought in England?"

"Upstairs closet, top shelf… way in the back… the shoes your wore to my cousins wedding are up there with them"

"Shit! I've been looking for them too!"

"Well, if you need anything else…just call me"

"Um, actually... do you know where my taxes are?"

(Heavy Sigh - from the ex)



Ok, Back to Women's Week…


It seems to me (and anyone that possesses a reading level over the age of 8) that the stand up comic is to today's lesbian culture what folk musicians and Kum Ba Yah were to the lesbians back in the 70's. Just read the women's week guide – every 20-30 minutes you can catch a stand up comedy show of some description.


All I have to say about that is…. THANK GOD!

Way to go, lesbians!! We are now choosing to laugh at our selves rather than sitting around singing odes to butch gym teachers. I think it is a possibility that we could be on the verge of shaking our dumpy dour reputation as unfeminine, unfunny creatures. You know, the ones that just can't find a "good man" and therefore are forced to turn to lesbianism.

I could never figure out what "good man" meant and we've all heard it. Does it mean Hung? Gives good head? Won't beat you for serving brussel sprouts with dinner? I have come to the conclusion that it means filthy rich, impotent and welcomes your lesbian lover to move in to west wing of the Malibu mansion. If you know this man – please send him my way… I think I could be forced to make a life change.

With this new wave of beautiful, funny chiquitas…perhaps the straight people will finally accept the fact that I truly am one of the horned, card carrying members of our little club. Not that I am either of those things but I'm hoping it will impact me in some way.

Now I don't want you to think I am bashing the unshaven, patchouli wearing, earthy chicks hauling guitar cases around town. Please don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of the lesbian folk musician. I have accumulated quite a few of the musically inclined type on my ex-gf rap sheet. I even have a professional pianist from Amsterdam on there and let me tell you… "Chopin" will never sound the same again… (ahem).

I considered working my way through the comics but thought better of it… I mean, really there's enough material out there in the world without having an auditorium of potential ex-wives laughing at my personal sexual escapades. At some point a 37 year old woman in a French maids outfit just isn't funny anymore.

The single women blew me away. The pick up lines were amazing – even to me! Now, forget the lesbian handbook, I think I missed the women's week "single woman's: handbook – I have never been yelled at so many times for my apparent failure in the making out department. Apparently the pre-requisite errs more to the side of making out with and sleeping with drunk chicks whose last names you don't know, can't spell and for the love of god…forget good pronunciation!!

If you try to swim upstream against this rule… you get yelled at!


And that my friends, is my next posting… Women's Week, Part 2


Sparkles

xoxo


Currently listening :
Lesbian Favorites: Women Like Us
By Various Artists
Release date: 1997-10-28

How To Fail A Personality Test

So, here I am – some random hotel room in Connecticut, smoking in the bathroom with the fan on and the shower running – can of "Oust" at the ready and it occurs to me…



Don't people use hotel rooms to lose their virginity, do drugs and deal arms to foreign militia?


And I'm fucking smoking in the BATHROOM !

REALLY???

When did we all become so friggin conservative? It just about near kills me - the blandness of it all.


I'm going back to my roots – I have decided in this very minute. My goal every day from here to the tag on my toe – is to find one rule a day and break it… Is anyone up for that kind of challenge with me?






Currently listening : Personality Test By Henry's Anger

Indecent Proposals

I think trying to see if your girlfriends parents friends would pay you for sex is quite amusing.... unfortunately my friends now ex-girlfriend didn't think so....Other people may think it was a dick move... I personally think it's comic genius and that's why I love you just the way you are!!!

Some of my favorite conversations recently....



1. " What would it be called if you didn't have sex for 5years but abstinence and celibacy didn't seem to fit as proper words?"
"I think that's what we like to call... a Lesbian Relationship"



2. "You have to love and respect me and if you can't do that then... you have to give me head"



3. "I swear I am going to kill him! I just know he is cheating on me"

"But princess, YOU are cheating on HIM!"
"I know, but he cannot prove it"



4. "I knew she would try to make me look like the dick in this break-up"
"You were TRYING to sleep with her parents friends for money…"
"So? She wouldn't introduce me to her parents… why would she care?"


(different conversation - same topic)



5. "It's not like I would have done it. I just wanted to see how much they would offer me"
"Like, how much are we talking?"
"I figured they'd offer me at least five grand"
"And you wouldn't have done it? What are you crazy? Babe... not for nothing, but...YOU could use five grand".



I confess to groaning and even swearing out loud when I get those ridiculous forwarded e-mails...


"Send this to ten people in ten minutes or you will never have sex again"


Hey people...guess what? I'm probably never going to have sex again anyway so I don't give a shit... keep sending em... my undoubted response will never change... DELETE!!


I got this a couple of days ago; it is almost worth all the crap you have forwarded to me over the years...hoping your phone will ring telling you that you won a million dollars.... Bear in mind, I did say ALMOST....



THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:

1. Innovative

2. Preliminary

3. Proliferation

4. Cinnamon



THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:

1. Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.

2. Nope, no more beer for me.

3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.

4. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?

5. Oh, I couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing



And that my lovlies... is it for me, since I have to get up at the crack ass of 5am.... Good Night!

xoxox

Exactly how should a person clean their sex toys?

It has been a good source of conversations – all this business of what to write next.


Everyone seems to have their favorite stories. Our gatherings have recently been filled with..."Oh my god, do you remember when…." "You have to write about that time when..."


The call is out for some classic "Dukey" Stories…. Karen Duke…. I will try to do her some justice, it is a challenge to bring to life a personality so large and compelling….. there are not enough words in the English language but as Dukey herself would say, "That being said..."

When she is on her game, Dukey is not the life of the party… she is the party. She can pretty much get anyone to do anything…. She is magnetic…. No matter who you are, she can get you to dance to her selected tune – it wouldn't surprise me to hear she had gotten cloistered roman catholic nuns doing body shots with the satin doll strippers… Yup – she's that good when she's "ON".

The flip side is when she's not – Oh, Holy Hell… But when you love her – you just gotta love it all, it's a helluva ride no matter where it takes you.

Meet Karen Duke

My personal tag line is:

"Have you met me?"

It means everything, it means nothing and sometimes it's just something absurd to say….

Karen Duke's Tag line has always been:

"Kid, you don't even know my middle name"

Always a variation on the same theme, in her cocky, boyish I got the world by the balls routine… what she is really saying is that you don't know her well enough to either say what you're saying or do what you're doing. As she is posturing her fine social graces over these poor people – you'll usually find me in the background saying "It's Marie…. Her middle name is Marie…" Would you expect any less of me?

Karen had a bad week… I mean a REALLY bad week…. It started with the hair dye…. an allergic reaction to a botched home hair dye attempt, my "swaggering, butchy" friend gave herself second degree chemical burns. Her neck and face were a mess.

A couple of days later she proceeded to fall down the basement stairs and tore her ankle up bad enough for a trip to the hospital where upon her limping, swollen,bandaged return home… her friends dog apparently took offense to the limping and bit her. I confess I'm already laughing because it does get worse. I realize it's not funny stuff but you just can't imagine that so many things could happen to one person in such a short amount of time; there's gotta be an element of humor in the horror!

Karen returned to the emergency room to get her hand bandaged up and a nice tetanus shot in the ass…. No word of a lie, same week… She got a call from relatives in Canada, her Father had died.

The services were in Canada and she needed to get there but couldn't drive…. Arm in a sling, ankle bandaged and swollen, burns on her neck and face – thank god someone stepped up to the plate and offered to drive her. Off they go on the not so fun mini road trip heading for the border by Niagara.

6 or 7 hours later they get to customs and realize Karen forgot to bring her license along with the rest of her wallet…. I kid you not!! There is no way around it – they have to go home get the stuff and have a trip "do-over".

Finally she makes it back across the border and the family she hasn't seen in years. Reconnecting with long lost aunts, uncles and cousins they are telling her stories and giving her memorabilia she didn't even know existed. For some reason an aunt had Karen's original birth certificate and decided now was a good time to hand it over…. I got the following phone call…

"I can't believe it"
"What?"
"I can't tell you"
"Karen what?"
"It's awful"
"Oh honey, I'm sorry it must be so hard"
"No, it's not that!"
"Huh? What do you mean? Then what is it?"
"It's my name"
"Your name?"
"My middle name…."

She sounds like she is gonna break down any second, like the world is ending… and please… at this point she owned the"I've had a bad week" saying….

"I'm not following honey; you're not making any sense"
"It's not Marie!"
"WHAT?"
"My middle name is NOT Marie!"
"Your middle name isn't Marie? Yes it is… Honey, it's always been Marie"
"It's MARY"

Silence on the phone – it's starting to dawn on me… she's actually trying to tell me something and I am desperately trying not to laugh at the plight of my dear, dear friend…..

"Nik, it's on my birth records… my middle name is Mary…"

I don't wish to appear callous... I had globs of sympathy for the hair dye chemical burns, busted leg, dog bite and her inability to get out of the country without any identification.... Her Father had just died and I have a heart filled with love for that kind of grief, but in that very moment....

The ONLY thing I could think of was......

"Hey Kid! You don't even know my middle name…"

It's too good of a weapon to ignore…. When the ball busting begins and strangers are drawn into her company….. you'll find me somewhere tossing out inflammatory comments…

"Hey Kid, don't listen to her – she doesn't know anything… Hell, she doesn't even know her own middle name!"

(told with love)

………………………………………………………………………………………

NEVER SLEEPING

At least 5 years prior …. A small crew of us went to Provincetown for a holiday weekend. We had an ocean front room with two beds, a pull out couch, kitchenette and balcony. Sounds nice, huh? Yeah… there were 9 of us sharing the room!! You heard me… NINE…. 3 to a bed, 2 on the couch and Foxy Brown was the floater… she hooked up 24/7 so we figured she really just needed a place to shower!!

Karen had recently started dating a cute 19year old baby dyke – just home from college with a hockey injury. The underage thing was mildly freaky but the girl was so damn cute, everyone adored her. Karen convinced most of us to go to the Pied at 3 or 4 in the afternoon before they started id'ing for the evening and just stay right through till close – since it was the only way to get cute baby dyke in the bar.

It was the summer of swishy pants; you know those sporty things you're supposed to wear if you're athletic? Well Karen started wearing them like it was her job; after all she was now dating a 19yr old field hockey player whose entire wardrobe consisted of 15 pairs of swishy pants and 10 baseball caps.

Not the most attractive choice on the planet but it wasn't the look of them that actually bothered me… it was the goddam swish, swish, swish, swish noise…. REALLY? You want to "Swish" EVERYWHERE you go? For Real?

The early hours of the 3rd night we had all fallen into our respective beds only Karen and her young love interest had not yet returned. They were last seen headed for a romantic stroll down the beach. They creep in an hour or so behind the rest of us. The room is in pitch darkness and they giggle their way into bed. Quiet ensues for about 5 minutes then it starts….

"Swish"
"Swish"

Quiet

"Swish"
"Swish"
"Swish"

Pause

"Swish"
"Swish"
"Swish"
"Swish"

Then comes the drunken sexy whisper

"You don't know what you do to me"

Up until that point I think each of us….. all 7, thought the remaining 6 were asleep. I know I personally was holding my breath trying not to let the amorous couple know I was wide awake – a listening audience to their swishy love fest.

From the pull out couch comes the comedic timing and sarcasm only "Mental Dental" (she's a dental hygienist) could execute….

"No…. but the rest of us do. We all know EXACTLY what you do to her!"

The room erupted in hysteria….

Lights snapped on and our swishy pant lovers were caught in the ridiculing glare of their closest friends….

The lesson of that particular trip?

Your friends are NEVER sleeping…….. and yes swishy gals – we now know exactly what she does to you and vice versa!!

……………………………………………………………………………………….

Nice To Meet Ya

The Swishy girls dated for about three years and then broke up. Cute Baby Dyke (now legal) dropped off the scene for quiet a few years. None of us saw much of her, when we did occasionally bump into her – she had leaned out and had really bloomed from cute baby dyke into a striking young woman.

Foxy Brown and Karen were out and about one night doing their usual work the bar for the cute girls, routine… The infamous, tried and tested… "You're hot, you need a shot" … cheesy as it sounds… works for them every time.

Fox strikes up a lively conversation with someone at the bar and orders a round of shots. Karen seeing shots in play, strides over to join the meet and greet – She shakes the woman's hand and introduces herself

"Hi, I'm Karen Duke, very nice to meet you"

Foxy Brown is just standing there with a screwy frown on her face – a puzzled look, the girl is just looking at her and saying nothing……Karen has no idea what just happened…Finally Fox spits out…

"You Dumbass!!! It's Kelly Silva…. You know? KELLY… You dated her... for THREE YEARS…. Swish, Swish, Swish?"

Dukey's response?

"Well, I can't remember everybody!"

…………………………………………………………………………………..

Exactly how should a person clean their sex toys?

Fox and I went away for the weekend and left Dukey to house sit for us. Saturday night, my phone rings it's Karen and she's getting ready to go to the club.

"Where are all your hair products… I can't find anything"
"K, go in the bathroom – everything you could possibly need and more is in the bathroom closet"
"Got it!"
"OK, have fun tonight, call if you need anything"

We resume our evening. Half an hour later the phone rings again,

"You have the crappiest hair products, this stuff doesn't do anything"
"Karen, there's a ton of stuff in there that you will like, just search through"
"I did already and this… what is it? Um, Toy stuff… doesn't do anything, what is it supposed to do?"
"Toy stuff? I don't know what you are talking about, what does it look like?"
"It's in a small spray bottle it's clear liquid"
"Dukey? What does it say on the bottle?"
"Hang on, um, it says… Toy Cleaner"
"What do you mean it doesn't do anything? Did you use it in your hair?"
"Yeah, I put a ton of it in there – it's not doing anything"

Fox heard "Toy Cleaner" and "did you put it in your hair? "she is beside herself….

"She didn't? What did she do? She used the toy cleaner?"

I nod because I can't speak… I catch my breath…

"Karen…. You put "TOY CLEANER" in your hair?"

"I told you this already"
"Karen, That's not a hair product!"
"What? What? But it's in with the hair products"
"Dukey, it says Toy Cleaner on the label… what did you think it did?"
"I thought it was that shiny stuff you use, it looks like it"

Fox and I are now peeing in our pants laughing….

We weren't there to see it – but I have the image in my mind of Karen "I don't know my middle name" Duke – standing in the bathroom mirror spraying "Sex Toy Cleaner" into her hair getting frustrated because the only thing it's doing is adding a nice layer of germ killing disinfectant to her scalp!

It really brings "clean hair" to a whole new level.

......................................................................................................................

THE BODYSHOT BIRTHDAY

Dukey's 40th birthday was a scene straight out of the movie "Fame"and "Flashdance" combined. It was tagged as the "Bodyshot Birthday" at least a week beforehand.

"It HAS to be the bodyshot birthday, doing bodyshots after 40 is crossing the line into creepy"

"Are you really telling me that after this weekend you are NEVER doing bodyshots ever again?"

"Yes! I'm telling you. There's a fine line between creepy and charming…. It's time to grow up – this is the last of the craziness and I am going out with a bang!"

I fix Dukey with a skeptical look and shake my head with a mixture of sadness at the possibility and complete utter disbelief that she is serious about retiring this bar room pastime that has spiced up many an otherwise uneventful evening….. I agree to the madness with a half conviction that she is actually serious about it.

It was INSANE!

I should end the story there with no further incriminating details…. However…. That would just be silly!!

Karen had every hot girl she spied that evening in some kind of compromising situation on tables, bent over chairs, laying flat out on the bar. At some point she threw out the challenge to have all the bartenders everywhere we went – on the bar covered in sugar… all I have to say is… mission accomplished!!

We bar-hopped leaving chaos in our wake – the birthday entourage doubling in numbers with every bar… we collected clientele and took them with us to our next targeted spot. Our final destination was a gay club downtown– typically a gay men's nightclub with a mixed clientele…. Body shots ensued. The gay guys were in love with the crazy chaotic lesbians who stormed the place and took no prisoners… if you were there you were part of the party.

The club promised to close down way too early for Karen's liking. Before the ugly lights came on, she slipped out and pulled her brand new black and chrome tricked out Mitsubishi Montero up onto the sidewalk in front of the club. All doors, windows, trunk and sunroof – wide open. The Souped up Stereo turned to max – dance music filled the city around us.

As the gay population poured out of the club – they were greeted by a street version of the dance party that was shutting its doors for the evening. It was crazy, everyone just stayed in the street – dancing, singing, making out… all kinds of boundaries were crossed… Gay guys were making out with the lesbians; lesbians were making out with each other… a couple of straight dudes from a bar up the street joined right in to the milieu. It was like a free-love convention right out of the 1960's.

A couple of us went up through the sunroof and were continuing the party on the rooftop terrace. From this vantage point we spotted the cop car in the parking lot across the street. Our city's fine law enforcement official was sitting watching the disorderly conduct with mild interest. I figured we were sunk for sure – he must have been waiting for back-up to come so he could disband the gathering of 100 or so drunken queens and dykes, right? It had the makings of a mini stonewall all over again! Nope!! Apparently, dude was just enjoying the show - he must have gotten a call because after half an hour or so he took off in the opposite directions – lights and sirens blaring.

No-one got hurt, no-one got arrested it was a surreal night of bodyshot birthday fun. The after effects weren't too bad either… It was repeatedly brought to my attention that I was probably responsible for the small dent on the roof of the Montero. Personally I blame the kissing bandit…. A 6 foot 3 inch straight dude that was up there having a good old time with the gay girls! I swear he was the one who wasn't aware of proper weight distribution techniques…

My GF and I stopped by Banana Republic the following week where my she proceeded to step on the sharp point of a security tag in the dressing room – it was a bloody mess. The nervous nellie staff member called for manager assistance…. Enter gorgeous gay guy… who stopped dead in his tracks. My first thought was…. he was squeamish and the blood was a shocker but no… "Oh my god! Wasn't I just making out with you two on Friday night?" The uptight staff member almost choked on her own saliva "Oooooohhhhh you two are great kissers" he then proceeded to be super charming and with true gay man flourish he gushed…. "I can give you a great deal on those pants if you promise not to sue…"

The following Saturday we headed out with very few expectations – after a night like that not even New Years Eve 1999 could compete… we were in for a long haul of just "OK" nights out. It was pretty mellow until Karen spotted a hot chick… she gave me the look – I saw the girl…. I saw the devil take root right on Dukey's shoulder.

"Nik…. Bodyshots?"
"Wait a minute creepy lady! Didn't you say…"

I couldn't even get the sentence out – she cut me off with a glare as she flashed her cocky grin at hot chick – did her boyish shoulder thing and went into full swagger…. Me? Yeah, I was at the bar ordering a round of lemon drops with extra sugar on the side…. So much for turning 40!!

Things I learnt so far in 2008

Never to choose the sensible option

My body does not want to be impregnated quite as easily as I thought it would

To stay away from psychics – no matter how much fun it may sound at the time

My capacity to love and grieve is infinite

Feeling vulnerable pisses me off

My ego can be problematic

Most people have to be shown how to do a body shot

There are many things I never thought I would do and now that just seems so silly

Sharing yourself and your life really does bring a measure of joy to other people – even complete strangers you may never meet in person

Digging someone who doesn't dig you back is part of natures plan and actually isn't as bad as one would imagine

My personal cologne line will be called "I'll do what I want and then you'll thank me"

I really want my own porn film called "Smoke and Mirrors"

If I ever get a tattoo – I'm committed to one of those cute little Chinese designs… I swear I'm taking the delivery menu right into the tattoo parlor…it's gonna say Chicken Fried Rice