Wet Wednesday: The Perfect XXX-Mas Gift is the One that Keeps on Giving!

We have all heard SNL infamous J.T. skit, “Dick in a Box,” by now, in all of it’s hilarity:

But what if you could actually give your dick, in a box, to your lover…well you now CAN!

I was perusing Katerina’s Closet today, my favorite (and friend owned) adult toy site, with the holidays in mind today, which brought to mind a special gift that a friend gave his lover years ago…his penis. Well, a replica of his penis at least.

From his account it was quite a project, from the making of the mold to the pouring and setting of the actual member…a labor of love if you will-y. Hahahaha!

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Well of course the puns abound, but that aside the Clone-A-Willy kit was quite a well received (ha) item that Christmas…and let’s be honest who wouldn’t want your lovers dick ready and at your disposal (literally) upon any whim!

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Katerina’s Closet shoppers do receive a 20% discount off of the $55 price tag…which is quite a deal fellas, when you think of all the joy you’ll bring!

Happy holidays,

c.

Just a Bad BAD Bunny, on a Good Friday


I have never been a fan of Easter or any of the overly wrought religious holidays, in all honesty. As a child, I recall enjoying my new fluffy pink dress, and DESPISING sitting in church all day, only to be semi-placated by my mothers horrific cooking (no it is NOT okay to replace ricotta with cottage cheese in lasagna, ever.) Despite that there was this idea of family that surrounded Easter. I may not have liked the set, or the script, but I loved the actors. I miss that now, living 3,600 miles away from any semblance of (related) family.

However, over the years I have developed a surrogate family of my own. We don’t share blood; we share love. We are not related; we are relational. And we do not go to church; we preach from experience and exploration.

On this Good Friday, I recognize the religious significance of sacrifice…not between the pages of the bible…rather in the passages of my life.

And this Easter, as with so many in my more recent past, I appreciate both sacrifice and resurrection…of family, as a feeling and not simply a surname.

Love, xxx c.

(all images courtesy of M.Wild Photography)

I AM THANKFUL…

The past year has offered many twists and turns…and I find that still, I am not settled…I continue to ride the wave of life, at times pleasantly pleased, disappointed…at others. But, I remain thankful. My life is my own…some would consider it faulted…others might covet it…and like everyone’s life, mine deserves neither. It is simply mine.

Today, I want to reflect on all of those in my life who have made it so beautiful…a life worth living…for whom without, I would experience neither joy nor suffering…and a life without BOTH is…no life at all.

Thank you.

I am thankful for you.

And I thank you….for giving me, my life. xxx c

The Flapper: She was the ‘Bees Knees’

My next Nightlife Event is the 13th of November and will be based around the era of the 1920’s with a sleek and sexy Speak Easy theme (If you live in the NYC area CLICK HERE for details).

I am, as you might have guessed super excited and hiring talent to sing, dance, and DJ in the style of the Roaring 20’s because I can think of nothing more apropos for my birthday celebration than a PRIVATE event commemorating a time when prohibition pushed the limits partying…causing an underground movement that give rise to achievements in creativity, the arts, and lifestyle.

Specifically, The 20’s saw the the birth of iconic personalities like The Newsboy, The Cigarette Girl, Chesterfield Girls, The Gangster…and…his naughty female counterpart:

THE FLAPPER!


Flapper” in the 1920s was a term applied to a “new breed” of young Western women who wore short skirts, bobbed their hair, listened to jazz, and flaunted their disdain for what was then considered acceptable behavior. Flappers were seen as brash for wearing excessive makeup, drinking, treating sex in a casual manner, smoking, driving automobiles and otherwise flouting social and sexual norms. Flappers had their origins in the period of liberalism, social and political turbulence and increased transatlantic cultural exchange that followed the end of the First World War, as well as the export of American jazz culture to Europe.http://www.wikipedia.com

“Flapper” has it’s origins in a term used to describe a young bird just learning to flap it’s wings. In reality The Flapper was a lot more, she was brash…she represented the emergence of female sexuality as a force to be reckoned with…she was independent…sexy…and sassy!

As Halloween approaches I find myself pondering on the appropriate costume, with much more frustration than I ever did as a child. And I am realizing that as an adult Halloween doesn’t just have to be about throwing on a sexy outfit and downing massive quantities of alcoholic beverages and dancing the night away with like-minded friends (which it can still be of course), rather THIS YEAR I challenge you (and myself) to reach back into childhood, when you meowed in your kitty-costume or cackled as a witch…dig deep and really embody your costume…make it real!

With that mindset…I feel like THE FLAPPER is a lock…preparing you not only for a night of fun and fantasy but also imbuing it’s “wearer” with a sense of historical revolutionary spirit!

Happy Halloween…and don;t be afraid to DRESS IT UP on November 13th The Speakeasy…there will be MANY Flappers in attendance including…moi!

xxx, c.

Dia de Los Muertos…I honor LOSS through life

In the last five years I have lost as many family members…Five. To some that sounds like a lot, to others it does not….everything is relative. Still, in my world it felt like…too much.

(My grandfather)

Searching for understanding and acceptance in my grief, I came to my own history as a Mexicana (Link to previous post HERE) and the Mexican holiday Dia De Los Muertos, specifically.

Dia De Los Muertos or Day of The Dead is a religious/paganistic  ceremony beginning more than 3,000 years ago with the Aztec ancients.

Many people mistakenly understand it as an extension of Halloween, although it is celebrated on November 2nd and is not actually related to the mockery of Halloween costumes and revelry, rather Dia De Los Muertos is a ritual remembrance of those who have died.

The decorative alters, full of candy skulls, flowers, incense, candles, and photos are meant to honor and respect the dead through remembering their life, it is a day to acknowledge death through living.

“We must remember them”, say the elders about the Dead. “They want us, they love us. See how that flame danced high before it died? It is the Dead, letting us know we are not to forget them. Look over there—that glass just tipped over. No one of the Living touched it. It is how the Dead speak to us.”

It is not sad a sad day, rather Dia De Los Muertos is a celebratory day when the souls of lost loved ones are welcomed back to the world of the living, but no tears are shed. The ancients insist that “the path back to the living must not be made slippery with tears.”

I realize this all sounds bit odd to many Americans, but Mexicans (and Mexican-Americans) believe that we all carry DEATH with us, everyday…

How?

We ALL have a skeleton.

Hence all of the dressing as skeletons and skulls that you see in the Latin community…the skeletons on Dia Des Los Muertos literally dance with life!

To Mexicans…our skeleton is our link with death which we carry with us throughout life. It is a stark symbolization the cycle of life.

Which is why…I chose my Calaveras de Azúcar (sugar skull) to be inked on my back (SEE LINK HERE). I wanted to make real the feeling I struggled with, I felt as if I was carrying my loss as a weight, on my back. It was painful…It hurt…and somehow I felt that through realizing that emotion through artistic expression, paralleling my emotional pain with with a physical (almost ritual) act…that I might grasp some relief…some acceptance and peace. I did.

As November 2nd approaches, I am struck again by the meaning and symbolism of Dia De Los Muertos…a celebration of DEATH through LIFE…and the tremendous healing impact that realization had on me…it is a dialectic I think we can all relate to…and one that somehow…makes death…and loss just a bit more…acceptable…through making it…A PART OF US ALL.

I leave you with this poem…written by a Mexican woman, translated from Spanish…please enjoy…xxx c.

Woman with Somber Gaze

Woman with a somber gaze,
Tell me, what do you see in the candles?
are the ghosts in the night
or are they flowers of the earth?

What do you treasure on your lap
illuminated and transparent,
even in the air
your silhouette appears?

Twice as much the pain,
twice as much the loss,
the flowers have become the rivers
and the fragrance cries out.

Pondering at night,
vigil of the imagination,
bundle of lights and echoes,
stay up late during the wake…

Woman with a tender gaze
the flames of candle reach out;
are they mocking this moment
or are they restfully flickering out.

In your illuminated face
life rejuvenates,
to those who love death
this is a golden in their sight.

For those who love life
it is a night of confusion,
the wax kisses the flowers
and the flame caresses the emotions.

Julie Sopetran
(Spanish poet, 1995)

Source: Poem found in Michoacan– Through the Eyes of the Soul, Day of the Dead in Mexico