Last time I hosted a spanking booth at RAW in DC, I asked each guest a simple question. Could they recite the first 10 amendments to the US Constitution in order as they appear in the Bill of Rights? Each incorrect answer resulted in a spank. These two beautiful butts got all the way to "9" before I had to step in and issue a correction: #9: Reserves the power to the people.
We've all made enough mistakes this year. Let me help you make amends. Join me this New Year's Eve at Cobalt in DC.
Revolution in Russia brings promise to millions 'round the world. Before things take a sad turn for worse, the nascent Republic of Soviets was also home to a vibrant, avant-garde art scene. Poet and fellow Ukrainian Vladimir Mayakovsky stands out among many talented young communist boosters. Take for instance, the manifesto he co-authored with fellow futurists the year the revolution commenced, which concludes adamantly:
We order that the poets’ rights be revered:
To enlarge the scope of the poet’s vocabulary with arbitrary and derivative words (Word-novelty).
To feel an insurmountable hatred for the language existing before their time.
To push with horror off their proud brow the Wreath of cheap fame that You have made from bathhouse switches.
To stand on the rock of the word “we” amidst the sea of boos and outrage.
And if for the time being the filthy stigmas of your “common sense” and “good taste” are still present in our lines, these same lines for the first time already glimmer with the Summer Lightning of the New Coming Beauty of the Self-sufficient (self-centered) Word.
To read more of Mayakovsky's poetry, follow the LINK.
To view his explanation on "how to write a poem" (and reason for this I SEE PENIS post), click HERE.
...with a SPANK! I know you've been naughty. Bring two cheeks; I'll make them rosy. Get started on your New Year's resolutions with a smack from yours truly at the New Year's Eve RAW Dance Party in Washington, D.C. inside my very special spanking station.
In New York City, Times Square was once known for smut. Prior to Mayor Giuliani's reign, the area around 42nd and Broadway was home to strip clubs, sex shops and adult movie theaters. Many city residents still reminisce on that special moment in XXX time. Thanks to blog reader Scott it seems that one porn star, or at least my doppelganger, has made a triumphant jumbo-sized return to Times Square. The porn stars are cumming...watch out!
Blog reader Geoff sent this amazing holiday clay-mation Colby Doppelganger.
Merry Christmas from NYC. I was watching the stop motion classic "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" tonight and I was suddenly confused by my longing for the young Claus when it hit me; young Claus is a Colby Doppelgänger! By the time he was bent over for his new friend, a penguin he named Topper, it became undeniable. I've attached the photos. Granted, a stop motion Doppelgänger is a pale imitation of the real Colby (and a ginger, at that), but this is still some sort of Christmas miracle. A merry one to you and yours, Colby.
Mix three cups pulverized vanilla wafers, one cup powdered sugar, one cup toasted ground nutmeat (pecan or walnut), 1/2 cup cocoa powder, with 3/4 cup of the finest Domincan rum, Brugal. Form in to balls and roll in shredded coconut.
The perennial practice of commemorating the bedazzled holiday sweater has reached a fever pitch. A sweater party somewhere in Los Angeles immortalized yours truly this past weekend. The sweater creator, BSD reader Marcus, even won a prize: the Adele CD pictured with his award winning ensemble above.
A more appropriate gift may have been an album from a diva of a different sort: Queen of ironic sweater consumption, performance artist and musician (and "friend of Colby") Leslie Hall. I first encountered Hall waaaay back in the Myspace days. Her MySpace gif is an icon of early-2000zies pre-recession irony. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend you click on the previous link. Though I never had the honor to experience her mobile gem sweater museum, I quickly fell in love with Leslie Hall's ample electro-trash oeuvre.
Flash forward two years: November 2006. BSD correspondent Karl Marxxx was busy preparing for TAINT, his queer dance party in Washington, DC. Before Leslie Hall became too big for her britches, Marxxx managed to book her for a Thanksgiving day performance. We slaved for two days on turkey and stuffing to please our minor celebrity guest. She never broke character. Prompted on her musical influences (admittedly a poor question on my part), she didn't hesitate, "mostly adult contermporary, a little Shania. . . a little Hootie . . ."
We all threw on our gem sweaters and headed to the venue.
In need of volunteers, Leslie grabbed me and a friend from the audience and brought us on stage. She slung a thick 2X4 across our shoulders, then disappeared. A few minutes later, she returned with a makeshift harness. Pulling the harness over one end of the 2X4, she hooked herself in, twirling in close concentric circles while she sang, suspended from our shoulders, like a DIY Britney Spears. While I'm certain she wore a fat suit for some numbers, she's no light weight. I worried the board might crack in half. Leslie, the 2X4, and my clavicle remained intact. Thank God for "Gypsy Lizard Coin Purse"! After the concert, Leslie brought me back on stage to officially anoint my own gem sweater. While I managed to misplace the certificate that accompanied her ingenious sweater christening ceremony, I'll always have the memories. And now you will too.
Blog reader Dan is a lucky man. He spends a lot of time traveling in Micronesia for work (the large grouping of islands in the Western Pacific that include Wake Island, Guam, and the Marshall Islands (all once or current protectorates of the Unites States).
If you're an archaeology buff like me (or watched Unsolved Mysteries as a kid), you may be familiar with the ancient basalt cities of Micronesia. They comprise the kind of unusual places built by brown people thousands of years ago that white people later "discover" and assume only an advanced culture from a distant planet could build. Perhaps the most familiar is Nan Madol on the island of Pohnpei (part of the Federated States of Micronesia), a vast network of megalithic stone structures built over the water. The settlement dates back nearly 2,000 years. Locals, when referring to the city, describe it as originating from the "other side of yesterday, another dimension". To the east of Nan Madol is the island of Kosrae, and a similar stone city built on a man-made peninsula around 1200 CE. While stumbling over the stone logs of "Lelu", Dan's eye landed on the basalt boner above. Granted it's rock, but looks pretty human to me.
Inspired by the "man-orah" above, I decided to make my own cock-filled candelabra. And yes, the shamash is a schwaze (please no hate mail!). I had nothing but a stack of Inches Magazine to work with and couldn't resist the joke.