In-N-Outs
A bear stretching her words after three weeks of conferences, camping, and companions.
When you put 3000 miles on your Econoline traveling up and down the coast to multiple sexy conferences1, you come home with some with hot takes. Here’s three of mine. We’ll start with one that’s been sitting in my head for a while:
WE’VE REACHED PEAK HARNESS. Okay, I know a few years back we were all a little worried that straight folks had started wearing harnesses and that “fashion harnesses” had become a thing, and we lightly joked about how we had to “defend flagging culture” and how “they’re coming for poppers, next!”
This one has been brewing for a while. At a party back in March I was just marveling at the number of people wearing harnesses, milling about, hanging around, and realizing that Queer folks have achieved “Peak Harness.” We’ve forgotten the spirit of Gay Christmas, that all those leather straps aren’t there as accessories, they’re GRAB HANDLES and HARDPOINTS for QUEER AF FUN TIMES. And I don’t see many of you folks putting those harnesses to work.2 Rings go un-leashed-to, shoulder straps aren’t held tight in white knuckle grips, and goddamn, let that leather live its best life.3Are harnesses out? Nah. This isn’t that kind of post.
Are harnesses in? Always. Let’s just…make rough sex great again.
ORANGE HANKY OVERLOAD. Okay, so this is a Kinkfest-specific beef. There were so, so many folks flying orange at Kinkfest this year. Which seemed weird, because Kinkfest is a pretty straight con with a lot of restrictive rules on play. It’s definitely not a “Whatever Your Heart Desires” place.4
First, orange is the weirdest hanky to fly, because thrown left it means, ANYTHING, ANYTIME, ANYWHERE and on the right it sort of means “Nah, just chilling.” So it kind of upsets the top/bottom/left right easy-does-it system of the hanky code. But folks often treat it like left means “top for anything” and right means “bottom for anything.” And none of that is even remotely possible at the con itself.5
I’m not gonna police the weirdness of the orange hanky, since I definitely have thrown it both ways,6 but can we just, like, actually reserve orange for the absolute freak shit?7
“Just Cruising” or “Ready to Bottom For ANYTHING?” Who TF knows? But when the con has fifty different, non-negotiable no-nos, maybe orange isn’t the way to roll. Am I in “Old Lady Yells at Cloud” territory on this one? BOOTBLACKS ARE FREAKS. Speaking of freaks…. Goddamn, I am in love (and light lust) with every chaos gremlin bootblack in the world. Y’all are holding it down, and if there’s such a thing as the Bootblack Teddy Bears Picnic, I wanna sneak into that party. I love you, boys, girls, and whatevers. Take all my money. Also, I’m starting to suspect that there’s LSD in the Huberd’s that y’all are licking all the time.8
If kinky folks are Muppets, bootblacks, y’all are all Gonzos.9
BE THE GREAT GONZO YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD.
Anyways, I’ve probably got more, but, damn, it’s time to do laundry, mind home, and get back to work on the local stuff. Maybe this post is a soft launch of the fact that there’s probably about to be A LOT MORE SEX around here in the near future, since that’s where a lot of my life and work is located these days.
Make the best of the time you’re “given” when everything crumbles around you. Did I mention that The Tower is my favorite Major Arcana?
As the owner of several Emma Alamo harnesses, one of the things that I appreciate about her team’s work is that they have a “Dungeon Rating” guide on their site on the type of play or handling each harness is suitable for. As the enjoyer of the one and only Emma Alamo “Muscle Bonny” harness, that thick, center strap can give a grrrl a rodeo rider feel that her desert heart needs.
I know some of the young ones have emerged from the pandemic and are still forming themselves into the leatherfolk or perverts they’ll someday become, so that’s why it’s so important for to model PROPER HARNESS USE.
If you know about the Palm Springs Finishing School for Bad Girls, Tough Women, and Powerful Crones, you know. If you don’t…ask.
I do want to give a shoutout to the one transfemme rocking orange in her ears and tail. Yeah, I could tell you were the real deal. I could smell it on you like blood in the water. Hope you got what you needed, sister.
If you see me with my tiger stripe hanky in a pocket, I am fucking horny and DOWN, come get me. Bring your friends. Whatever.
Cue the Donna Summer-fueled “Freaks of the Industry” from my favorite hip-hop, sci-fi concept album of all time, SEX PACKETS from Digital Underground. Should this be my karaoke / lap dance song? Yup, just gave it a listen, need to grind.
And, yeah, more than licking. I know what you do. I’ve SEEN what you do.
“Insert” all the puppet/fisting jokes you want, here. This take flags red on both sides and down the middle.