Flying Gogoplata

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh … And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

–E. E. Cummmings (via syntheticpubes)

You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.

But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

–Charles Baudelaire (via andthenyouexplode)

I can’t hack the poetry. I try at the virtue constantly and fail consistently. So I default to the wine.

(Ripping off tumblr’s citation format, both because I couldn’t find an original source to cite, and because it is concise)

Exhibit A – Nick Diaz:

Exhibit B – A Boxing Kitteh:

Am I the only one who sees the stylistic resemblance? Perhaps this kitteh should challenge Roy Jones, Jr.

I’m having trouble figuring out what Armor All and Sexy Maids have in common. Maybe I’m missing something:

The obvious choice for sexy maids

Perhaps inhaling its fumes makes your fantasies appear?

Yes. And how dare you.

Sometimes, a wordpress upgrade means I’m going to start writing here again. But I’ve been known to be an unrepentant liar when it comes to such promises. We shall see.

I’m not sure how I feel about it. It’s probably best that other people do this kind of stuff for me. Let me know what you think.

Are you ready for this?

O. M. F. G.

This has to have been the best fight card of the year so far. Easily. There was not a single bad main event fight, and Sugar topped it off with that little beauty. Again, a little context, if you need it. More on this later, when I’ve gotten some sleep.

I’m well aware that I have been quiet for quite a while lately. But I really could not help but share these:

Before –

After –

And a little context in case you needed it.

I just read about the death of Alan Turing and it made me immensely sad. A deep, gut sadness that I haven’t had in quite a while. This probably has to do with the fact that he was the kind of genius I revere and wish I could be.

It’s funny that in my simple privilege I was allowed to assume that scientists got to walk around their professional lives without a sex (this doesn’t mean without a gender, as many women scientists will attest). So long as their research doesn’t involve the moral-political hotspot du jour, you can be fairly sure that no one will care very much about who they’re attracted to or who they have sex with. This is also a large part of what is so upsetting to me. With all that everyone makes sure you know about Alan Turing, no one ever mentions the fact that he died, young and well before the prime of a scientist, because he was gay. We celebrate Turing. We honor people and innovations in his honor. We’ve made him a wartime legend with his work against the enigma machine. And in that legend we can comfortably forget that he died at age 41, after ingesting a cyanide-laced apple after 2 years of estrogen therapy to achieve a government mandated chemical castration. Because he admitted to having a sexual relationship with a man.