Monthly Archives: September 2006

Die-die, Sweetly Die

I’ve had a massive vampire fetish since I was fourteen years old, just a few months before I came out. Dracula was in the theatres and I grooved on the soundtrack. But the sex appeal of vampires took a while to develop. It wasn’t until I read an academic book about lesbian representation in cinema (yes, I was fourteen and nerdy) and started drooling over pictures of old lesbian vampire movies that I really started going. I hit EVERY second hand bookshop in town until I found Sheridan Le Fanu’s Carmilla (which predates Dracula BTW) which I endlessly read OVER and OVER. (If only we had the internet, you can read it here.)

She used to place her pretty arms about my neck, draw me to her, and laying her cheek to mine, murmur with her lips near my ear, ‘Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and vou shall die-die, sweetly die- into mine. I cannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, in your turn, will draw near to others, and learn the rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love; so, for a while, seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit.’

So literary vampirism started out VERY lesbian. Then moved into exploitation movies where lesbian vampires always bit breasts. WHY when the neck is so sexy and has those great veins?

I read the entire Vampire Chronicles. Not much lesbo action, but there was a vicarious thrill to read about sexy immortal gay boys and their dramas.

Parker Posey is not a lesbian vampire in Blade Trinity (or is she?), and the movie itself is rather stupid, I don’t know how she was expected to work with such atrocious dialogue. The best thing to do when watching this movie is just admire Parker Posey’s sexy vampire styles, especially the scene where she has vampire sex. Man, Parker Posey AND Vampires!!? That’s true love!!! My first girlfriend had fangs, I used to call her my vampire, she was so adorable. She didn’t eat meat though so I think convincing her to do bloodplay was completely out of the question.

Later on in life (okay, four years later) I read Macho Sluts by Pat Califia and totally got off on the vampire story in it. Fucked if I can remember what it’s called.

Lesbian vampires are popular again, and nowadays instead of wanting to be the victim I want to be the vampire. As Patrick Califia states:

It would be even better to be able to rise each evening free from depression or hesitation, to choose a new beloved and stalk them, savoring the perfume of their fear, then pin them down for a final fuck that ends with a painfully prolonged ejaculation and arterial spurting. Whooooooooeeeeeeee!!

That all being said, if Parker Posey stalked me down an alley and pounced, I’d just roll with it. Who am I to argue a cutie like that with teeth like THESE???

I looked for some hot lesbo vampire video, and the best I could find is Allyssa Milano as a lesbian vampire in Embrace of The Vampire.

24 minutes left of the day, FOUR POSTS!

Hey dudes, trying to squish on some more fly content before the end of . . . um, tuesday.

This is my favorite cousin Deanna wearing Schrodinger’s crinkle tunnel (which he never plays with by the way) standing in my old apartment before I got kicked out for getting a weiner dog.

And this is my cute cute cute kitten Schrodinger, when he first came home. He’s much bigger now of course.


And this is my little WEINER BOY!!! Goofy bratwurst that he is. He hogs the middle of the bed.

Queers Fucking Eminem

This image is straight from a gay porn blog, titled, erm,

Okay, I was wondering if I was the only Queer who has an aggressive erotic fixation on Eminem. Apparently NOT!!! Tristan Taormino’s openly discussed making Eminem her bitch. “Does my urge make me as depraved as he’s supposed to be? (My bitch says, “I am whatever you say I am.”)”

The Pet Shop Boys wrote a song called “The Night I Fell in Love” about a boy doing it with a famous rapper who sounds suspiciously like Mr. Mathers.

And Canadian Gay Icon Scott Thompson did his own Queered version of Slim Shady’s Stan (which was already pretty queer). “Dear mister ‘I’m too hardcore to come out of the closet cause I don’t wanna lose my street-cred with the homies, but inside I’m just an nsync lovin little giiirl!’ I can no longer continue with this one sided relationship Marshal, and I have therefore decided that this is the last you will ever hear from me.”

Any other Queers have lurid Eminem fantasies?

If Thirza Worked at Much Music

I’m in a goofy mood today. I got up early with the intention of diligently continuing my screenplay, but after reading the news I got goofy and started Youtubing various music videos. Why do I have writer’s block? Dunno, but I don’t think I really have it, I think I’m just hypo and easily distractable today.

On to the videos!!!

This is Gwen Stefani’s video for What you Waiting For? I love the song, and the video kicks butt. I think this video is somewhat of an indicator of what I want my next feature film to be, a full on lush Saturated technicolor fable with crazy period costumes glorifying femmes and butch dandies, maybe even a musical. Like the Cremaster Cycle only shorter. I shall call it The Menstruel Cycle.

What You Waiting For?

Shoes, shoes, Oh my god, shoes. This is a current classic making waves on the internet. Let’s get some Shoes!! My shoes are over a year old. These shoes suck!!!!

Shoes by Kelly

I don’t know anything about this guy, but he is really funny. Presenting Gary Brolsma!

New Numa

Okay, here’s another remix, Madonna Meets Gwen! Hung Up mixed with What You Waiting For, for a mix this is pretty awesome.

What You Hung Up (Jaques Lu Cont & Vinicious edit)

Annie Lennox was my idol from the age of two onwards. I charted her career for ages, and I think her early eighties look solidified my penchant for redheads. She made me feel like I could be a gender transgresser and still be goddamned sexy. Madonna never exemplified the ability to evolve personas of femininity the way Annie did. Here is her video for Little Bird, which depicts nearly every alter ego from her career, and shows them getting terribly out of hand, as alter egos are wont to do.

Little Bird

PEACHES!!! I was 4 feet away from her sweaty body at Dicks on Dicks in Vancouver. This is Set It Off, a must see for lovers of bush! (not George, just nice bush) Personally I love riots of pubes, and these pubes could storm the Bastille! I tried to find a version that didn’t sensor Motherfuckers, but alas. So when you sing along, be sure to sing Motherfuckers as loud as you can!

Set It Off

Because I love Tori Amos, and because I love her cover of Strange Little Girls, I include her video for it. It’s a female Bildungsroman!!! (okay, I also picked it because I’ve wanted to say that for ages)

Strange Little Girls

Okay, since I posted about Courtney yesterday I have to post one of her videos. Let me tell you, it was a tough call between Miss World, Gold Dust Woman, and Violet, but I finally settled on Violet. I was also going to post Heart Shaped Box by Nirvana, but I didn’t want to detract from showing props to Hole, who really did get me through adolencense.


My film school background won’t let me NOT post Smashing Pumpkin’s Tonight Tonight, a lovely ode to Melies Voyage Dans Le Lune. Plus I love that song.

Tonight, Tonight

Okay, when I lost my virginity this was the Top of The Pops. I’m not posting it because it’s necessarily a good video, or even a good song, just because I’m weird. I lost it to the hottest girl in my grade, in the most conventional of lesbian first times, a girl-girl-boy threeway, although as I remember it the boy was mostly on the floor while she and I rolled around. We still chat by the way, the girl and I, not the boy, I don’t know what the hell happened to him after his house burnt down (I didn’t do it). By the way, the night we did it WAS a Saturday.

Whigfield’s Saturday Night

OKAY!!! I had to come back and re-edit this because I couldn’t in good concience leave it with such a crap video. In honour of my strange buttfucking crush on Eminem, I present my favorite video of his, Without Me. Oh, seems the RIAA made Youtube take it down. Well, it was either Without Me to the Village People, or this Harry Potter Without Me Fan vid. I think Draco makes a good Slim Shady.

Without Me

AAAAND . . . everyone always asks me “Where can I see Ewan McGregor’s cock?” Okay, not always, but more than you would think. I keep directing them to Todd Haynes Velvet Goldmine, but I dunno, they can’t find it or whatever. For all who want to see Ewan’s dangling dick, here it is.

Show me Ewan’s Cock!

Last but not least, a short clip of Bjork talking about being sexy. And eggs.

Hell in a Handbag

Spike Lee is among millions who hate George W. Bush. Recently he called Bush America’s worst president in history, who is “taking us to hell in a handbag.” Much as I love anyone who slams Bush, I had to crack up at the notion of George tucking America into a Burberry handbag and trotting them all into the chaos of the Middle East, Katrina, and loss of civil liberties. How elegant, and oh so queer. Maybe it is a manbag?

I’ve neglected my blog in favour of following the dramas of other’s blogs, notably Feministing, who were involved in a blogger Brouhaha this week led by Ann Althouse, a self-described feminist who attacked Jessica of Feministing for posing in a picture with Bill Clinton where you could see her breasts. Covered, by a modest shirt. A woman with breasts! You don’t say!! While clinging to right wing “feminist” rhetoric, she proceeded to attack Jessica based solely on her looks and not her incredible work in blogging about international women’s issues. As it happens, Feministing is one of my favorite blogs right now. It’s got a perfect mix of humour and news that makes you want to whip out an AK-47. Plus it’s one of those refreshing feminist chronicles from a younger perspective, while I admire older feminism, things like anti-porn, anti-sex, anti-lesbian, anti-S/M feminists piss me off.

Either way, the comments threads went down in Blog history, eventually getting coverage from dozens of other blogs and Salon. All because of boobs.

What pissed me off the most was the way Althouse slammed Feministing as an unfeminist blog, based on boobage and her own twisted ideals of feminism. There were complaints about a t-shirt bearing Feministing’s logo (it’s a shot of boobs!!! Um, yeah, t-shirts are often chest shots because they cover your CHEST!). There were complaints about Feministing using Mud Flap girls for their logo (ignoring the fact that the girls are giving the finger).

I’m tired of people telling me what’s feminist and what isn’t. I consider myself a feminist. Yet I’m aware that several things about myself make others question my politics.

1. I am butch. I do not wear dresses, ever. I buy from the men’s section. I like femmes. I sometimes walk around with a banana down my pants. But my masculinity does not detract me from the struggles of women all over the world.

2. I like sex. I like all kinds of sex. I like vanilla sex. I like rough sex. I like BDSM sex. I like roleplaying sex where someone really does pretend to be a dude. I like porn. I like straight porn and gay porn and ridiculous stories about things I would probably never do. My favorite porno is the comic Convent of Hell about Satan having group sex with a bunch of Nuns. Maybe someday I will roleplay Satan/Nun sex. Who knows? But liking sex and penetration and porn and SM does not make me any less feminist. Having a fist or dildo up me doesn’t make me any less upset about women having lower wages or the fact that the female population is not adequately represented in politics. Although I admit it does distract me for a half hour or so.

3. I have boobs. BIG boobs. After Celexa they are C-cups pushing D-cup. I show them off sometimes. Sometimes I run around at Pride with my shirt off, because I can. I’ve had them in two films of mine (for which people assume every film I ever make has my boobs in it, uh, no. Ten of twelve videos are boobless.). Sometimes I wear tight t-shirts, both because I like how it feels and because it shows off my breasts. Sometimes I have cleavage revealling tops. Whatev. It doesn’t make me less feminist, less butch, less anything. It makes me a woman who likes my body. And having boobs doesn’t mean I like being sexually harrassed, doesn’t mean I’m looking for something sexual with anybody. It means I have breasts, and if you’re lucky you can meet them face to nipple.

4. Um, I actually can’t think of a fourth one off hand. I eat eggs. I hate my period because it seems useless considering I won’t have kids. I listen to Eminem sometimes. Sometimes I have sex dreams about him. Whatever.

So, yeah. What else has been on my mind?

OH, I know, one thing has been pissing me off for years. I am a filmmaker/video artist. I am also queer. I am also mixed race. And for some reason, EVERY FUCKING time I am curated, it is either in a First Nations exhibition or I am asked to curate some goddamn Queer Native programming. I do not want to be constrained curatorially by my ethnicity or lesbianism or both. I am tired of being Canada’s token red dyke. Go find some other red dyke to be your token. I am tired of first nations people getting freaked out by my frankness about sexuality. I am tired of queers assuming I only think about race when I’ve only made two videos explicitly about race and racism. Please, someone ask me to curate, like a fisting program, or an experimental program, or anything. My favorite curatorial experience was when I had carte blanche to put together something for Video Out’s collection and focused on the theme of low budget personal videos. That kicked ass, and it was an awesome program that I am still very proud of, even though few people saw it because it wasn’t Aboriginal Queer Thirza doing her ghettoized thang.

Take your fucking ghetto and fuck off you fucking fuckers.

OOOOH! ONe more thing that pisses me off. I LOVE Courtney Love. And people bash her, say she’s a skank, say she killed Kurt, say she’s a druggie (and how many male rockers are druggies? Hmmm). Once in my feminist class I mentioned my love of Courtney only to be totally slammed by a MAN who inturrupted me and went on and on about what a bitch she was, and refused to let me finish my sentence about why I think she rocks. Man, if I didn’t have Live Through This when I was a queer teen in Saskatoon, I would have died. She made me feel like I could rebel, and I did.

I felt like I was in the minority of women who thinks she’s cool, but then I came across this article from Margaret Cho’s Blog about people, even feminists, talking shit about Courtney. Margaret, you rock, and Courtney, keep on ROCKING man!


I got some pics of me at the photobooth today looking really cute. Came home to scan them only to remember my scanner is totally dismantalled. So . . . you’ll have to wait a bit to see them. I tried to look sexy, but I think I ended up looking goofy. Oh well.

And I found my Eminem for my porn video!!!! I’m terribly excited, we will be shooting in Toronto or Montreal hopefully next spring, if anyone has a mini DV camera and wants to watch two people get it on, let me know. Oh yeah, and I think I’m turning into a switch!!! I’ve been having some VERY toppy fantasies lately. It’s rather exciting, a whole new aspect of my sexual identity!! And my dear friend who’s gonna play Eminem might be the first person I top. EEEEEeeee!! I’m going to have to do some serious research, especially on butt fucking. I wish I had a person to practice on.

Anyway, I wanted to put on SOME pictures of myself on here, so I ripped off some pics from my Friendster account (which is why they are so teeny).

This is me when I was seven. I don’t look too impressed.

This is a publicity shot of me on my quasi metoric rise to obscure video artist fame. I think I look hella sexy, but most of my friends just laughed at me.

This is REALLY teeny tiny and is a still from Helpless Maiden Makes an “I” Statement. Yep, I really was totally naked for the entire shoot, but nary a nipple is seen.

This is a still from Anhedonia, the video that nearly killed me and definitely drove me to madness. Originally I envisioned covering the window with molasses and licking it off, but have you ever tasted molasses? Blerg!! So it was Hershey’s chocolate syrup in the end.

The Continuing Saga of Me and Epson

Come to think of it, ALL of my printers have been Epson, and ALL of them have sucked major ass. You’d think by now I would have switched to Canon or Hewlett Packard. It’s kind of like my continuing fondness for a certain volatile ex girlfriend.

Anyway, right now my printer is laying in pieces on the floor in the office, much like the result of the Scarecrow meeting those flying monkeys. I can hear it now “And then she took my scanner and threw it over THERE! And then she took my power board and threw it OVER THERE!” Right now I am stuck, because I need a long screwdriver to get at two teeny screws standing between me and the printer mechanism. I got so angry last night I tried to just rip the damn cover off. It didn’t work, which is maybe a good thing. After that I have to locate a tube and flush it out using a mixture of rubbing alcohol and a copper wire. Luckily I have rubbing alcohol from a failed attempt to make oil out of dirty pipes.

Apparently I’m going to have to do this EVERYTIME I change the ink cartridges. For the amount of labour and the high cost of ink, I could just get another printer.

I amused myself today by imagining myself dick slapping an ex and best friend with a banana and making her eat it. Maybe I should dick slap Eminem. I bet he’d get a kick out of it. I’ve heard rumours he’s a little light in the gangsta wear. I’d feel a lot better about this politically incorrect crush on him if he was a cocksucker. Lesbians and Gayboys have a long history of secretly gettin’ it on.

My little weiner dog did the RUDEST thing to me this morning. I was roused out of sleep by the feeling of something cold and wet pressing against my butt crack. I kept moving away and thinking “What the hell is that?” and then I realized he was sticking his nose in my butt. Aaaah! Bad doggy, no butt for you. I’m not into that weird shit. Then I couldn’t get back to sleep so I started wiggling my toes around like I sometimes do, when Schrodinger decided to pounce on my bare feet and rip the shit out of them. So I got out of bed, early. Maybe if they keep ganging up on me in the morning I will have reasonable waking hours. I’ve also noticed my dog likes catnip. Pourquoi? He totally pushes Schrodinger out of the way and snorfs it down. I thought it would be funny to cover him in catnip and see what happens but he wanted no part of it.

The dog and cat have figured out how to take up half the bed, I don’t know how they manage it but I always wake up squinched over to the side while they’re happily sprawled out.

And I keep having weird nightmares. I had a dream a female moose got up on two legs and started chasing me and the only way I could get her to stop was to pretend a stuffed animal was humping me. Last night I had a fucked up dream too.

On September 10th my grandparents came over and I heard the most classic thing from my Grampa. He said “I’m tired of 7/11!”

Okay, for hot gender parity in this blog, I also submit another picture of a hottie.

I know the caption says Stuff For Men, but from what I hear Jorja’s stuff is strictly ladies only. Woot!

Goddamn Presidents!

I had the most bizarre dream last night.

It started out that I was in Grade Twelve, AGAIN! I was at an assembly where Stephen Harper and George Bush were speaking. I had a glass of orange juice and I forgot it on the podium, and Stephen Harper drank it while he was talking. Everyone saw me go up and get my little glass back, then I washed it and got grape juice, but this time George W. Bush drank it! As I was leaving the assembly with my empty glass I yelled “Goddamn Presidents!” and the whole school cracked up.

I was talking about it with some friends in the lunch room when the principal came over and said I wasn’t allowed to talk about politics or be political in school.

Later Eminem came to the school because he was in town touring and he had to go to class. Somehow we struck up a conversation and I found out he was trans. Later he invited me to party in his hotel room and we took mushrooms and ecstacy. He was actually really nice and not all tough at all. He was surrounded by gangsta types and groupies, and I kept flirting with him and trying to get him into bed, but he went off with one of the groupies. Then I left but I forgot my shoes there.

The next day I came across a trans friend of mine who was also going to class (which is even MORE ridiculous because she’s over fifty) and in class we heard the teacher talk about how awful her video was and what was wrong with it and then he was going to screen it so we would all know how bad it was. And as it started she and a lot of our friends and I just walked out.

And then I told her about Eminem being trans and she got all happy, “A trans superstar!”

I woke up wondering if Eminem really was trans, but then I remembered he had a kid. Still it was an interesting dream.

But why do I keep dreaming about Eminem?

Medical Marijuana and my Mood Disorders

I use marijuana on a frequent basis. Right now I’m broke, so I have none, which kind of sucks because I’m coming out of a mixed episode. I’ve been smoking for the past nine years. I’ve been bipolar for the last twenty-one years. Before I started smoking, life REALLY sucked ass. I had way more volatile episodes, involving violence (mostly towards inanimate objects), rages, suicide attempts, and so forth. The first time I smoked pot I saw a Pink Floyd and The Doors laser light show. Mostly, I kept smoking because it was so goddamned fun.

As time has passed I’ve learned when I’m using it mostly to alleviate symptoms of my bipolar. As a natural mood stabilizer, it is remarkably effective. During depressive episodes it lightens my mood and eases mental pain. During bouts of insomnia it helps me get to sleep. In a hypomanic or manic state, it brings me down to a more even keel and calms and relaxes me. It has far less side effects than most of the psychoactive pharmaceuticals I’m on. It stops racing thoughts. It basically works on nearly every symptom I can have.

Medical Marijuana is a contentious issue, even for people seeking prescriptions and exemptions for conditions like HIV, glaucoma, chronic pain, etc. But if you’re bipolar, woah, people REALLY have issues with marijuana and mental health conditions. This stems from the myth that pot makes people crazy. Pot doesn’t make me crazy, PEOPLE make me crazy. The Israeli government has recently approved giving medical marijuana to soldiers suffering PTSD, another mental health issue.

The Canadian Mental Health Association’s official position on marijuana is that no one with psychiatric disabilities should EVER get near marijuana. However off the record a number of psychiatrists and psychotherapists will admit to their patients that marijuana is fairly effective in treating bipolar disorder. Some will write prescriptions. A number of bipolar people have come forward about their experiences in using marijuana, whether it’s legally prescribed or illegally purchased from street dealers.

Ideally, I do not want to buy off dealers, and I don’t want to buy Government approved marijuana because it’s dreadfully weak in THC (the active ingredient which helps people) and is tainted with lead and arsenic, FAR more dangerous than street drugs. What I would like to be able to do is to grow my own, just for me, one wee plant at a time. I’d like medical and legal support to be able to supply myself with my own organic hydroponic weed. I mean, for god’s sakes, IT’S A FRIGGIN PLANT!!!

Someday, in this next generation, people are going to look back at us and say “damn dudes, you were all backasswards.” We’re going to seem as dumb as alcohol prohibition.

Anyway, if anyone has weed to give me while I’m broke, let me know.