Wednesday, May 23, 2018



Oh fuck, look! She's at it again, writing contemplative essays & posting cutesy girly pictures instead of re-blogging luridly captioned photos of bare-assed transgirls whacking off while sucking giant cocks!!! What the fuck kind of tranny blog is this?!?!

Your life is your life. Don't let it be clubbed into dank submission.
—Charles Bukowksi


It's not Selflessness if You're Not Being Yourself

I hear it a lot. The argument that it's selfish to come out as trans, especially when you're older & have established a life based on your outwardly perceived gender identity. Even if you've come to realize that life is largely a lie, the argument goes that you should tough it out. Continue to live the lie for the sake of everyone else around you who've come to rely on that lie as the foundation for a good part of their own lives.  You've made your bed, as the saying goes, now go lie on it until it becomes your death bed.

These same people will insist that it's selfish to disrupt your marriage, traumatize your children, shock your friends and family by coming out as trans. Better to keep the secret, live in the shadows, be quietly unfaithful if you have to. Better to just stuff it all down and never acknowledge it even to yourself. But, of course, you know that's impossible. And the things you do to "let the pressure off" make you feel sneaky, dirty, guilty, because you are all of those things. You're a big phony and you know it.
It feels like shit. 

So you keep your secret. You maintain the facade of the good father, the good husband, the good son, etc. But you're just kicking the can down the road. Because chances are all those people you think you're fooling will at some point find out the truth if they don't suspect it already and you can bet they most likely do suspect it. Trying to hide the fact your trans is like trying to hide the fact that you're an alcoholic. If you're "successful," it won't be until after you're dead that what they may have long-suspected is finally confirmed. That's how you define success—by putting off discovery of what you are until after your dead. And if somehow they never suspected the truth while you were alive, can you imagine the seismic shock when they discover it after your death? They'll come across that secret stash of clothes, those computer files, those chat logs and emails, that porn stash…you know where the skeletons are buried and you can almost guarantee they won't stay buried forever. But you'll have taken the easy way out by then. You died. Congratulations. You were the consummate escape artist. And so you can't be asked any of the difficult questions you spent your whole life avoiding, you won't have to see the hurt and disappointment on their faces, you don't have to weather the blast of their rage and their accusations. You avoided it all. You're the Queen of Avoidance. Your betrayal will be complete and you won't have to answer for it. Is that what you meant by being unselfish? Letting those you left behind, those you professed to love, discover your little secret on their own? Letting them cope with your infidelities now that you're beyond the reach of their pain, self-blame, recriminations, and outrage? Now that you don't have to proffer any explanations? Throwing up to them how little faith you had in their ability to love and understand you? Is that what you  consider being a responsible person?

Because that's how they'll see it. That you didn't trust them enough to accept the truth. Oh, they might well not have accepted it when you were alive, they may have been every bit as shocked and ashamed and disgusted as you imagine they would have been, but once you're dead, they'll blame you for not giving them a chance. That's how people are. They'll blame you for selfishly (oh, the irony!) keeping yourself a secret from them, for denying them the chance to get to know the "real" you. They won't consider that you did them any favors by lying about yourself to them all your life. They'll feel cheated of knowing the "real" you. They'll feel doubly-betrayed. They'll be offended that you thought so little of their love for you. It's life's joke on you.

And the truth is that if these people really were worth sacrificing your life for then they would be the kind of people who would accept the real you. You shouldn't have to lie to them to get them to love you. They should be every bit as understanding and loving as they like to think they are, as they will claim to be after you are dead. Why not give them the chance to prove it now? 

Yeah, its a shame that it took you so long to discover yourself  and that your false life is now entangled with the real lives of others. You built on a faulty foundation. But does that mean you should continue to build on it, to make the tower of lies, illusions, and half-truths even higher?  If you made a mistake at the start, does that mean you must persist in making it to the bitter end? If you took forty steps in the wrong direction does that mean you keep going in the wrong direction? Is that kind of consistency really any kind of virtue? Is that really the definition of unselfishness?

And is it really unselfishness that keeps you in the closet or is it just fear and cowardice? Is it unselfish to keep on pretending to be someone you're not and cheating behind the backs of those you profess to love? Is your cheating and lying and subterfuge truly for their own good or is that just a rationalization? Aren't you just taking the easy way out by acting the martyr? Maybe that wife of yours would be better off if you gave her the chance —at least the choice—to leave a marriage with a man who doesn't feel like a man, a faux man who most likely isn't satisfying her, never has satisfied her, and never will. Did you ever think that maybe by sticking with your obligations instead of following your own path of fulfillment you're cheating her (and everyone else in your life) out of a chance to find her own path to fulfillment? Are you really that vain, that egotistical to think that these people can't survive—even thrive—without you? Can you imagine the anger a woman must feel when she discovers how deeply and completely she's been betrayed over the course of a lifetime? 

You can do your duty, stay the course, and die knowing that you fulfilled your obligations, onerous as they might have been, that you denied yourself the only life you'll be given for the benefit of others if it makes your quiet desperation any easier to bear. But don't fool yourself. There's no guarantee that's the way anyone else will see it when all is said and done. You may not have decided to make the break, to walk out on your life to start another. But you aren't being faithful to that life your clinging to, nor to yourself, nor to anyone else. You're cheating. You're cheating  not just yourself but those around you from the chance of accepting or rejecting you for who you really are.You're cheating yourself and those your life touches out of the chance to live authentically. You're giving up not just your own life but stealing a part of every life you touch.  

And isn't that the primal fear we have in all relationships? That if the people we love only knew who we really were they wouldn't love us anymore?

Isn't that what's really keeping you from becoming who you are?

You can go back to fooling yourself and everyone else in just a moment. But take a minute or two to ask yourself that question. Ask it honestly for once. 

And then you can go on to live or die with the consequences. 




Monday, May 21, 2018

If the people around you don't understand you, it probably means that you're with the wrong people, or you're just on the wrong planet. Your imagination is your rocket ship to all the planets that exist in inner space. Travel to one of them.

Sunday, May 20, 2018


You can always find people who’ll piss on your dreams, who’ll tell you that what you want is impossible. They want you to fail because they’re afraid you’ll succeed & prove it isn’t impossible to get what you want in life after all, which is the excuse they give themselves for not daring to do anything bold with their own lives. Avoid these people. They want only to hold you down. They are like gravity. They will do whatever they can to keep you from flying.

Friday, May 18, 2018



I admire anyone who can live in a world of their own because the world outside ourselves is so difficult, violent, oppressive, fascistic & relentlessly invasive that it takes an extraordinary act of resistance & imagination & courage to defend one’s freedom & selfhood against it. And this resistance must be repeated every single moment of one’s life.

Me, shopping for tropical fruits. This was always my dream. Just to be an ordinary girl, walking around in the supermarket, with no one giving me a second glance. I don't want to be a cocksucking sissy slut bending over & spreading my cheeks in order to flash my cummy asshole for horny guys whacking off on the internet. That's not what the point is. That's not what being a "woman" is & never has been. Not for me, anyway. 

Who needs wings when you have a magical gravity-defying red balloon powered by a blue cat in telepathic communication with all-wise entities from beyond the stars?



Wednesday, May 16, 2018

=Sock Puppet Theater!!!!=




It's a knee. Paint on it. For god sakes, that's what its there for! If you don't, you could die! Really, you could!!!


It's time to paint cats.  Cats in Wonderland. Yeah, yeah, it really is!
What I'd have to say, if I could ever say it, feels too big for my mouth. Like trying to move a gigantic chest of drawers through a doorway half as big. You wonder how the hell the thing ever got into the room in the first place. It must have been built inside the room! That's the only thing that makes sense. To get out what's inside, I'd need a bigger mouth, a gaping unhinged mouth as big as a whale's mouth or a tunnel entrance, a cartoon mouth as big as the whole world, and it would be perpetually screaming.  

As a child, I was never allowed to say "no." Ever. About virtually anything. I was terrified to say what I did or didn't want. Even for Christmas. Even when I was asked what I wanted it got to the point where I was afraid to say, unable to say. It got to the point where I was afraid even to be asked what I wanted. From early on I learned that the reaction to any "disobedience" or "self-assertion," any kind of "rebellion" would have been so over-the-top, so extreme that keeping my mouth shut was always the best alternative, that there was no "alternative," that keeping my mouth shut was tantamount to survival. And, unfortunately, that's how it's been the rest of my life. 


Ive never been able to assert myself with others—to say what I want & even more importantly what I don't want. Easier to just avoid people altogether than to say "no" to them, easier to be alone than to erect the sorts of boundaries that other people find it natural to erect in even casual relationships. Every time Im near people I feel I'm in imminent danger of being steamrolled, invaded, occupied. There aren't enough hours in a day that I can be alone. It's the only time I feel safe. Of course, the obvious exception to the rule is Daddy. I feel safe with him, even safer with him than being alone. 


In a sense, Daddy is my "NO!" And what a "NO!" he is! A big, strong, muscled, tattooed "NO!" that must be respected. That no one can pretend not to hear. I don't even have to open my mouth. Actually, he doesn't either! He's a visual "NO!" Tread lightly, keep your distance, don't trespass, don't take advantage, be respectful—when I'm with Daddy I feel like I now have the voice I was robbed of in childhood; I have everything I needed to stand up for myself in life. Everything I won't ever have on my own no matter how much "therapy" I go through. It's just missing, like an amputated limb or a lost eye. It can be compensated for, but it won't grow back no matter what. I'll always be a gimp. I'll always be half-blind.


What I resent the most are my parents who had children in the first place—had them for no good reason it often seems than to stomp on their spirits, grind them under their heels. No, I don't really believe they did this intentionally, but out of ignorance and indifference, wrapped up in their own clumsy dance of marital dissatisfaction, depression and life-disappointment, their own neuroses & damage. 


Of course, it does no good to resent them. And I've forgiven them, if by forgiveness means accepting the fact that they, too, were flawed human beings with their own insoluble problems, who did their best & failed. I understand all that. But, I never had children specifically because I didn't want to damage them even inadvertently the way I was damaged. Why couldn't they have at least seen that much? 


I guess that's what I still have left to forgive. The fact that they passed their problems on to me. And I haven't passed them on to anyone else. I've decided the problems and the pain STOP with me. It was my decision and it was an honorable and correct decision. But goddamnit, I do resent that I'm left holding the bag!

Monday, May 14, 2018

Today it's all about the socks!!! 

My darling husband surprised me with these just after breakfast this morning. No particular reason, he said. He saw them online because of something else he'd bought me & thought they had my name written all over them. And don't they ever!!!

You can't see it too clearly in the picture but the little ruffle has white polka dots on it. Pink, ruffles, ribbons & polka dots. Can any sock possibly be sissier??? Maybe if they had kitties on them? 

Its May, its mini-skirt weather, & I've got brand new pink, ruffly, ribboned socks. Does it get any better?!

Thursday, May 10, 2018



Everyone likes to say they're different, to think they're unique. But they aren't. Not really. In the end, they do pretty much what everyone else does, believe in what everyone else believes in.  They do a good job of fitting in or at least pretending to fit in. Being truly different is no picnic, no barrel of laughs. It's nothing to crow about. You end up misunderstood by everyone, friendless, alone, alienated. If you're lucky maybe one or two people "get" you, not counting your cats. All too often, you end up at the end of a rope.

Monday, May 7, 2018


Fluxus Event Score:

Mail Trump Your Spleen

Sit at your kitchen table with a sheet of 1st class American flag stamps. Remove 1 stamp from the sheet, place it on tongue. Pause. Picture a rooster. Swallow. Repeat, using the entire sheet. Swallow an addition 10 stamps to mail Trump your colon as well.

Sunday, May 6, 2018

The Old Spag Factory

The last time someone wrote a love poem
without a smirk or an apology
it was 1987.

I don't remember it well.
I had vasoline on my lips.
I was a Chevrolet in reverse.
I was Chinese checkers.

Because petroleum president & the halibut hum
the apricot turned over
the sock & such
there were 1001 unique moments
when the butter was in charge.

Questions, questions
the toilet brush
the mozambique
it’s time to stay horny for the sun
clamp your perfume
to the stony chimp—

I blasted off from tulip bulbs
room deodorant
siren
I’m with you my hairy monster
a great reunion of Indiana Pacers
eliminates the air

Here’s your gumbo, sir
off you ride your table horns
to the secondary moon
& three day’s beard
& filomena egg stump
& egg
& egg
oh Dad
the lumbar region!


Saturday, May 5, 2018


When you're an angel your arms turn into wings because you don't need to eat soup anymore.