p.s the above picture is from Tokyo pride, B and I are neither of those women.

Picture this, my dear wife B. a femme lesbian who doesn’t stick out as gay, unless she’s with me, sitting on a bus on the way home from the gym. She passes through downtown where alot of people from Pride are starting to disperse.

A woman who has come from our pride parade, which happened hear yesterday gets on the bus.

On an empty bus, she walks up to my wife and sits down next to her. The following paraphrashed conversation ensues:

woman.: I was at pride, did you go to pride?
B: no.
woman: why not?
B (who is practising being on the bus alone without panicking replies): I’m sorry I’m not able to talk right now.
woman: what? You don’t want to talk about pride?
B.: I don’t want to talk to you.
woman: So you hate gays?
B: (in her head and not said to this lady) If my wife was here, she’d punch you in the mouth.

Funny this woman thinks unless you’re festooned in rainbows, you must be straight.

If you don’t “look gay”, you must be straight.

An interesting example of, you can’t actually tell who is a lesbian and who isn’t.

Here are some fun gay quotes:

The Bible contains six admonishments to homosexuals and 362 admonishments to heterosexuals. That doesn’t mean that God doesn’t love heterosexuals. It’s just that they need more supervision. ~Lynn Lavner

My lesbianism is an act of Christian charity. All those women out there praying for a man, and I’m giving them my share. ~Rita Mae Brown

You don’t have to be straight to be in the military; you just have to be able to shoot straight. ~Barry Goldwater

Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands? ~Ernest Gaines

It doesn’t matter what you do in the bedroom as long as you don’t do it in the street and frighten the horses. ~Daphne Fielding, The Duchess of Jermyn Street

Homosexuality is god’s way of insuring that the truly gifted aren’t burdened with children. ~Sam Austin

Who would give a law to lovers? Love is unto itself a higher law. ~Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy, A.D. 524

If homosexuality is a disease, let’s all call in queer to work: “Hello. Can’t work today, still queer.” ~Robin Tyler

You could move. ~Abigail Van Buren, “Dear Abby,” in response to a reader who complained that a gay couple was moving in across the street and wanted to know what he could do to improve the quality of the neighborhood

That word “lesbian” sounds like a disease. And straight men know because they’re sure that they’re the cure. ~Denise McCanles

Happy Pride In Your Neck of the Woods 🙂


Homicidal lesbian terrorist?!

Ok so yeah, I love my wife but if this fictional character was to become real, I might have a one-off affair.

Hot Head Paisan…homicial lesbian terrorist

That’s right powers that be, I’ve said the word terrorist on my blog, terror terror terrorist. There. Suck it.

Building Rome, A Day at a Time

I was not always this person. Well duh monkiss, you’re thinking, we’re all in constant evolution.

My dear reader, I’m sitting in the basement suite I share with my gorgeous wife and feeling a sense of peace and empowerment in my life and that is what I want for you.

Knowing my gender identity and my sexuality was not something that clicked for me one morning; it was a painful and long journey.

I didn’t think I deserved to be the person I am now.

There were out lesbians all around me, some were feminine and lipstick wearing, some androgynous and others more masculine, like me. And I couldn’t look them in the eye.

There was a paralysis that took place when I saw them on the bus or seated in my women’s studies class across from me in the circle where we talked about Germaine Greer or Gloria Steinem or Ellen’s coming-out episode on her sitcom in the 90’s.

I hated them because they weren’t afraid to be who they were and I hated them because I was afraid to listen to the voice inside me that said, yes…this is your tribe and these are your people.

They don’t call it the love that dare not speak it’s name for nothing.

A search for pieces of myself took me through a terminal illness and the wreckage and rebuilding of my body.

I left a 7 year relationship with a man who tolerated someone who had no desire for him, who didn’t burn for him the way I feel for my wife. I don’t know why he did that to himself. That part is not mine to feel guilty about.

After learning how to walk again, he got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. That was my moment, my moment to say I can’t choose this life anymore.

For me, being thousands of miles from my family and having little money and no one to talk to was like jumping out of a plane with my eyes closed and no parachute and no knowledge of how badly the landing was going to hurt or if I would come through another risk with my life.

After rising from the ashes, the painfulness of rebuilding, the growing and the work that came from that gave me the strength and the courage to make the next leap.

Leaving that man was brutality, he assassinated my character, he took everything we built together and I let it happen.

Even though I had nothing, I pulled myself up, forced myself into the world anew and reminded myself that as long as I was alive, I was a success, I could change.

My friends, my grandmother and extended family saved my life during those dark and painful days.

By the time B came into my life, I felt indestructible.

I accepted my sexuality and was proud of who I am, I shrugged off the negative stereotypes of being a masculine presenting female and allowed that identity to continue to evolve. I still have days.

We are not what happens to us, we are ourselves and the collection of lessons we take away from the slings and arrows life hurls at us.

I had taken many falls, survived so much damage and pulled myself to a place of success and strength.

The universe had rewarded my work.

B. was the woman in my life who changed everything.

With her, for the first time, I felt things I’ve never had in my life.

I felt what it’s like to want someone, to desire them…body, soul and spirit.
The power of desire cannot be underestimated.

When you are in the minority as a gender identity, sexuality in the way you present yourself to the world, it’s a very lonely and isolating place.

B. was and still is, my everything.

We’ve been together three years and I still don’t know what it’s like to not want her. I may never know.

When I wrap my arms around her each morning, I am home, when I kiss her goodnight, I rest in complete peace, when I come home to her after a day at work, I melt into her arms and smell her hair and know I have arrived.

It took me 30 years dear reader to feel this for the first time. This true love, this true peace.

Building an empire of truth is the only way to live.

I wish you peace dear readers. I wish you love and I wish you success in building your empire.


Why Porn Is Political…And Totally Hot

I’m sure I wasn’t the only chubby-ish butch lesbian to get mercilessly tortured from elementary school until university.
But I’ve heard the best revenge is living well.

For me, part of that living well, was to prove to myself I wasn’t a gross loser that no one wanted to jump into bed with.
In that regard, porn and being of loose moral fibre have served me well *wink*

I highly recommend sleeping your way through the European Union. This was an effective method for me initially.

Also for the small town hicks that thought butch lesbians were ugly and no one would want to bone me, I can tell you there’s an excellent chance, boys I went to highschool with….I have now had more girls than you.

Feminist porn proves and repeats my point…it’s porn for the real world…those of us who aren’t part of the 1% traditionally porn-sexy people.

Most mass produced pornography is for exclusive male consumption, no question, but my God, when it isn’t, when there’s feminist porn with names like Jiz Lee and April Flores to name but 2 in a whole universe of hot gender queer porn, suddenly watching a porno or looking at image galleries gets hot for the rest of us.

And yes, I enjoy porn…and yes I proudly endorse it’s use in non-coercive ways to enhance the sex lives of the single or monogamous or whoever.

Consenting and respectful adults have more fun.

I zone out the rest of the world when I see real women being sexy and confident.

Sure, you say, it isn’t easy to not be a size 2 and still flaunt your ass-ets…

I disagree!

Yes Please! I will take a slice of April Flores a la mode any day!


I'm also a gigantic fan of the curvy lady.

If your ribs are showing, come back after a few goes with some carbs, we'll talk.

Just kidding, my wife would murder you.

Defiant, sexy and curvaceous girls…girls with body hair…gender queers having a good ol gender fuck can be super awesome.

For those of you who are not the faint of heart, check out Buck Angel, the man with the vagina…his porn is a moveable feast for the eyes.

Here's another hot pic for the road:

Happy screwing!


brief note –** warning that there’s some words in here I wouldn’t say to kids, so if you’re a kid who stumbled on it, do me a favour and don’t tell me** (i don’t believe in protecting kids from the real world, but i don’t want to be responsible for “corrupting” other people’s kids…good deed done for today.)

You wanna get burned
You wanna get turned
You wanna get fucked inside out
You wanna be ruled
You wanna be fooled
You wanna be a woman like a man like a woman like a man
-Woman like a Man, Damien Rice

This song always made me think, back when dating my wife meant driving the 2 hours between the city she lived in and the hick-hole I was working in at the time, what does ‘like a man’ even mean?

I know all the normal stuff that gender and sexuality is a continuum and contrary to popular belief by most factions, the majority of us fall somewhere in the middle.

Wouldn’t it shock most conservatives to know that Kinsey determined most of us are bisexual?

For me, I guess, I find more difficulty in the part where peope assume all butch lesbians are ‘in transition’.

I don’t know what it’s like to want to be the ‘other gender’ and to be screwed some way by nature to notice you left the store with the wrong accessories.

I ‘do’ know what it’s like to be accused constantly of wanting to ‘be a man’ ‘act like a man’ and live my life ‘like a man’.

Just because some people, aeons before I was born, got together in a room and decided what was ‘manly’ and what was ‘womanly’ does not mean I agree to those terms and conditions.

I don't accept the terms and conditions of your social constructs

I like my mammary glands and I have no dislike for my genitalia and all the delightful things and sensations it allows me to experience.

My wife is also a pretty big fan.

I like all of those things about me and no, they don’t jive much with my brain or my preference in wardrobe. I still have no intention of changing anything to match anything else.

This is just my own experience.

Cue musical interlude:

Dear Bus Girl,

I saw you board the bus this morning and thought ‘now there’s a cool chick’.

You had an outrageous floral skirt on with loud yellows and purples, a long wool scarf and as much pink as you would dare, shoes and tights and accessories.

You sat right next to me in the easy access area with my broken foot boot dangling out in front of me and I felt happy.

I was happy because you’re a femme and you didn’t once look me in the eye and it was cool – our silent acknowledgement of one another’s presence.

You were so nerdy that it made me want to grin because I’m like a moth to a flame for mismatched, glasses-wearing girls with a penchant for sci-fi or something obscure and intellectual. And it might not have been cool when I was a twenty-something and I might have wanted to compete with you then, but now, it’s just fine if you’re smarter than me. And I bet you are.

The lime green casing over your iphone would have melted if you had looked into it any harder. I’m sorry if I made it uncomfortable for you, if you felt my gaze pressing a little too hard. I didn’t mean to interfere with your early morning reverie. I was merely appreciating you.

Today this butch noticed a kindred and it made me feel not so alone among a sea of average looking people, going about their average day. We were co-conspirators or at least that’s what my imagination wanted me to believe.

That somewhere we might pass each other by again with our respective partners and a tip of my cap would just be me saying ‘hey, glad you’re one of us’.