let's start at the very beginning...
so i'm still getting used to this blog thing. i started doing it on myspace. it was therapeutic. i was honest and neurotic. then i realized complete strangers were reading it. some girl told me she thought i needed to take up knitting. it freaked me out. i had thought i was under the radar. i'm also realizing as i type that i probably shouldn't have my picture up there. this isn't friendster or myspace. who knows what kind of shit i'll be saying about people here. gotta watch my back ;)
going to a CAKE party tonight. theme: serve and be served. sounds like leather is only appropriate. i have no leather. not even one of those hipster cuffs that are nearly as ubiquitous as those damn livestrong bands. herein lies the question that every fashion forward woman asks herself every day, "what the fuck do i wear?" to be honest, i'm not that fussed about it but my friend Pretty (a guy, and no, that's not his real name, it's what i call him when he's not around) really REALLY wants to go. for those unfamiliar with CAKE, its a cultish all-female group that throw a decent party about once a month but the myth is that it is this huge sex-fest filled with go-go dancers, chocolate icing, and nipples galore. in reality, go-go dancers=yes, icing and nipples=no. the last one did have an all female band that did nothing but led zeppelin covers, Lez Zeppelin. they fuckin rocked, though i think covering "over the hills and far away" is sacrilegious, but i digress. the point of all this? a man cannot go unless invited by a woman. i'm the only one Pretty feels that he can ask to take him. Pretty found out i've sent naughty pictures of myself to a guy and had fulfilled a fantasy of his by showing up at his door in nothing but a trench coat and stilettos (neither of which is all that risque) and now Pretty thinks i'm some sort of voyeur. that guy needs to get out more. i suppose that's where i come in. to usher him into his orgy party.
now where the hell do i find a whip at this time of night?