May 20th, 2004:
Yeah, I know, been a while - spare me.
Before I give you the newest batch of recommendations (look for a new update in November of 2005), I have to have a chat with you. Well, okay, not so much a chat as a soliloquy - I issue forth my melodic voice, and you listen with rapt attention without interrupting. (Like you have a choice, honestly.)
Gay marriage is now legal in the Puritanical, uptight state of Massachusetts. Wonderful, exciting news, right?
Well, let me tell you. Let me explain, in excruciating detail, what this means for ME now that HORDES of dewy-eyed lesbians are legally empowered to fall on their knees in front of me with only the BEST, most PURE of intentions in mind. Let me conjure to you, dear readers, what it means to receive GADS of offers from good-natured well-wishers whose most strident desire is to make an HONEST woman out of ME!!!
Pure, unadulterated, till-death-do-us-part MADness!
I, the Urania of Boston!
I, the Sapphic Bee (from bloom to fragrant bloom) of Massachusetts!
I, the Cad Who Could - and Did - Frequently!
No. No, no, no, dearest companions. The nay-sayers are right! Gay marriage - if allowed - will TILT the ENTIRE blessed AXIS of the WORLD as we know it! We carefree, commitment-phobic, body-shots addicted dykes are on the endangered species list as it is - and the MA just proclaimed OPEN SEASON on our asses! Good god, what next - a stroller? A nice house in the suburbs?!!
Given the new set of circumstances, I feel I must inform you that I'm moving to Kentucky. Or maybe Afghanistan (I hear there's a lot of uniformed hotties loitering about and there ain't no way THEY will be allowed to profess the love that dares not speak its name publicly...).
Honestly. I mean, what next? First the gays marry, and next thing you know, there'll be a Massachusetts Prez in Da Haus again... Tsk...
Anyway, while I still can - here are some reviews. As I might soon be forced to flee my natural habitat and hide in plain view, I might not be able to catch up on my fan fic reading as often as I'd like so ANY recommendations you might want to send my way will be appreciated. Just don't send marriage proposals. It was funny for all of the first three times. Honestly.
Oh, and I changed my email addy. I'm at firstname.lastname@example.org now.
* Alternative Stories: "The Trilogy" by Viv Darkbloom
* Alternative Stories: "The Bonny Anne" by McJohn
* Alternative Stories: "Confession" by Sais2Cool
* Alternative Stories: "Literal Thinking" by Karen Dunn
* Hubba-hubba Stories: "A Change in Season" by JLynn
February 6th, 2003:
Oy. Where, oh where to start?
I know. I hang my head in shame. I have failed you all. You have been bereft these FIVE long months, adrift in the fearsome, strange reality that is Xenaverse without yours truly to guide you. You have been going from one site to another, weary like flotsam finding no succor on strange shores, trying to find that one story to read, that one author to help ease your daily woes with tales of delight.
And I failed you, my dearest. I abandoned you, cruelly, harshly, like an albatross does a young she cannot support. Wait, no, no. That's a tad harsh. More like… I've left you safely floating away in a wicker baby crib, just like Gabrielle did Hope, knowing that I had no choice. Knowing that it was for the greater good!
But now I'm back! I'm back and back in the boat! Honestly. Xenalicious is here, and there are recommendations abreast!
But first, first I owe you an explanation, now that my apology has been so graciously and unquestionably accepted. What prompted me to let this site fall in disuse? What could have possibly been the reason behind my withdrawal, the impulse that would take me away from you, my dearest readers?
I got married.
Mm-hm. Married. To a very nice man. The sweetest. Yup. Now, granted, he's a tad hard of hearing, but that's no big deal. He actually enjoys my melodic warbling when I take him for a walk in his new wheels. Yes, yes, he does. The sweetest, I told you. Oh, and he's funny, too! No, really - he keeps pretending not to remember my name! Yeah, isn't that funny? Now, the doctor keeps telling me that's actually normal for a man his age, but I'm sure he's just a big ole kidder!
Yeah, so, we went to Hawaii for our honeymoon. Mm-hmm. The thing is, I didn't actually think we'd be staying there for a whole moon, though they say sunlight is actually good for people his age, but the funniest thing happened. My hubby - he likes it when I call him that - he owns this little island just off the coast of Waikiki and it turns out that the Navy, yes, Navy, owns the next little island just a hop, jump and a yacht ride away. Imagine that! The Navy. An island.
'n you know what the Navy does on that island? No? They hold exercises, yes, that's right - military exercises. For their all-female diving platoon, or whatever they call them 'twenty hot women in a group' little Navy divisions. Yeah, yeah, that's what I said! Navy? All-female? Apparently, and I've had to agree with this after extensive, um, research, those women were highly trained soldiers with extra-large lung capacities and, thus, perfect, just perfect for all sorts of diving.
Yeah, so, since the hubby spent most of his time drooling in his bib, asleep in the cabana - apparently another thing men his age are wont to do - I had to entertain myself somehow. Day, after glaringly steamy tropical day…
Yup-pah. That's the story.
What am I doing back in Boston during the arctic freeze of the century? Well, heh. There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that.
Oh, you wanna know what it is? Oh. Oh, well…
Turns out that the hubby, decrepit, senile git that he is, didn't take kindly to the fact that his young, nubile wife had a chance to introduce herself to each 'n every member of the Navy's diving platoon. In a Biblical manner. Twice. So, he divorced me. And, yes, that was after the US government kindly (read: under the threat of deportation) asked me to remove myself from Hawaii and the vicinity of the Western Coast. Something about 'mass desertions' and 'lack of discipline' and - weirdest of all - 'wide-spread exhaustion in the ranks'. Like they don't have enough to worry about, trying to conquer the world and create a Bigger, Better America Through Any Means Necessary.
Whatever, I say.
So, I'm back. And better than ever! Honest! And do I have some recommendations for you! Woot!
And not just any recommendations, mind you. I have an all-star cast here, lovelies. An all-star cast.
Check it out, dudes and dudettes and do stay warm.
Oh, and do call your representative and see if we can keep the Navy's all female-diving team (and all the rest of 'em folks) from getting themselves killed in Iraq, will ya? Thanks.
Updates galore! Woot!
Woot-woot-woot! (This is just me on too much coffee… Stopping. Now.)
* Alternative Stories: "Agape" by Mayt (recommended by Vivian Darkbloom)
* Alternative Stories: "Dear Booger" by Zuke (recommended by AngelRad)
* Alternative Stories: "Negative Reaction" by Julie Baker(recommended by Vivian Darkbloom)
* Alternative Stories: "This is a First Time Story" by Temora(recommended by B.M. Morgan)
And not to say I was too lazy to do any work m'self:
* Alternative Stories: "Been There, Done That, Bought the T-Shirt" by AngelRad
And last but not least:
* Alternative Stories: "The Blonde" by Brigit M. Morgan
Okay, sweetums, take care and drop me a line or two, but ONLY if you've written to the above-named authors and gushed a tad to them as well. It could be, like, your good deed for the week!
September 18th, 2002:
Wah! I hate work! I hate cubicles! I hate rectangluar-but syndrome due to sitting in one chair for EIGHT hours at a time!
Seeking: One Sugarmomma. Willing to trade unlimited sexual favors (you'll see where I got the idea in a sec) in return for pampering, financial stability and a condo in the Poconos. If interested, please send checking account number to...
What? It *could* work! True love knows no boundaries! Uber fan fiction tells me so!
Okay. Okay. I'll shuttup. Here's the new reviews, including one from (gasp!) a rising star in the fan fiction realm - Brigit M. Morgan! (Wheee! Wheee! Woop-woop-woop!)
* Alternative Stories: "To Rest" by B.M. Morgan
* Alternative Stories: "Better Than Ruling the World" by Xena's Little Bitch
* Alternative Stories: "A Narcoleptic's Guide to Romance" by Vivian Darkbloom (recommended by B.M. Morgan)
* Hubba-hubba Stories: "Unlimited Sexual Favors" by Cephalgia and MJ
Toodles, sweetlings and - as always - your suggestions are more than welcome. Ciao!
August 6th, 2002:
Hello, darlings! It's good to be back - not!
I've had the *best* vacation, almost three full weeks, and now it's back to the grind. Sigh. So, instead of studiously catching up with the piled-up work issues calling for my attention, I decided to send a few verrrrry good stories (honest, I tried them out myself) stories in your direction. But first, a short story of my own.
How about I tell you about the good time I had at the airport?
There we were, my friend and I, standing in the line inconspicuously, waiting for our documents to be checked before we board the flight that would take us home from Amsterdam. Inconspicuously, that is, until I lean in and theatrically "whisper" in her ear, "Do you think they'll find all that heroin in your backpack?"
You have to understand that my friend is one of the _most_ paranoid people I know. And, really, I should know.
So, the people around us all cease with their muted conversations and look at us, my friend's eyes go round, her mouth makes a perfect little O with no sound coming out of it, and she starts, quite petrified, to look at the security personnel conducting interviews around us.
So, being the adult that she is, she pinches me and tells me (I edited for the swears) to "Keep my mouth shut!"
The line is moving (we are standing in front of the gate we are to board at), and the Dutch have about half a dozen of airport employees checking passenger’s tickets and papers and asking them all sorts of subtle and probing questions, like "did anyone you don't know give you a package to carry for them on this flight"?
I'm sorry - I have to take a break here. Okay, so, they ask you an idiotic question like that and you say "No", and then they _still_ look at you all squinty-eyed, staring you down, until they turn their mouth down, as though you failed them somehow, and continue. I mean, WTF? I have been so sorely tempted on a number of occasions to be like, "Yeah, some dark-skinned, bearded, turbaned dude gave me this bulky, poorly-wrapped package that tick-tocked, but I decided it was too heavy to carry, so I left it in the bathroom in terminal C."
After you hear my story, you'll understand why I might just do that the next time I try to board a plane...
So, anyway, back to my friend and I, waiting, at this point not so inconspicuously, in the line. She's sweating now, and pulling at her collar. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Chewing her lips. No exaggeration here, she really does have an unhealthy fear of the authorities - despite being the squarest, most vanilla of the people I know. (Then again, for all I know, she really *could* have had a brick of horse in her backpack...)
We're at the top of the line now, and I'm whistling to myself, as I've noticed more than one of the security personnel looking at us with those 'under the brow, you can't really see me staring at you' looks.
We step up and are interviewed by a very tall, very flirty, very gay woman. My friend calms down a bit as we answer the - 'you packed all your stuff, you didn't leave it out of your sight, where are you coming from, what were you doing there' questions.
I tell her we were coming back from Dubrovnik, Croatia, to which she smirks and says, "Ah, Dubrovnik! A beautiful place, no?"
I smile (beam, really) at her and say, "Yes, yes it is. It's full of beautiful... sights." (I _might_ have attempted an eyebrow wiggle at this point, I don't remember.) Then she asks where we stayed (with my aunt), where am I from, where am I *originally* from, blah, blah, she winks at us and lets us through.
My friend's still a bit green around the gills as we round the corner and come to the security checkpoint. So she stammers up to the men checking tickets and passports, hands them to him, he waves her through he metal detector after she deposits her backpack on the luggage-scanner thingie.
My friend passes through, intact and visibly relieved.
*I*, on the other hand, am told to take my shoes off (bright yellow sneakers) for them to scan. *I* end up passing through the metal detector without so much as a 'plink' from the damned machine, and barely have time to put my shoes on (never mind the clean underwear - clean socks are a must in every occasion) - when *I* am pulled off for an 'additional' search!!!
Maybe so, but - lemme tell ya - the pretty little blonde thing who had to use her hands to pat me down *cough*feel me up*cough* was juuuust my size. I stood spread-eagle before her one second and then, the next, there were her palms, warm and firm, pressing against my shoulders, skimming the curves of my breasts, slaloming down my waist, down one leg, up the other and then - gasp - there was crotch contact!
I think I actually stood there motionless for a full onethousand, twothousand, threethousand, three seconds after she was done. I wanted more.
Then my friend (the spoilsport) grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away.
So, yeah. I'm thinking, depending on the security personnel involved, I just might hint at *any* number of crimes before boarding the next flight...
But, enough about me. Really. Here's the update:
* Alternative Stories: "Of Drag Kings and Wheel of Fate" by Smitty
* Alternative Stories: "Reasons to be Beautiful" by Domino
* Alternative Stories: "XWP:Apocalypse, Book One" by B.M. Morgan
* Hubba-hubba Stories: "A Simple Twist of Fate" by Rosemary
Btw, got the name of the story I was looking for last month. Thank you to all the kind people who responded again.
Now, if any of you know of any good places to go to whilst one is in Montreal, drop me a line, will ya?
Stay cool, y'all.
July 1st, 2002:
Uh. Been a while, eh?
Well, without further ado, July's update!
You know, I always harp on about y'all making sure you drop a note or two of thanks to the bards after you're done reading. Just to show you that I'm *not* the only pain in the arse who feels this way, here's something to take a look at:
With lots of people noticing and talking about how feedback to the writers is down, we here at the Academy decided to do something about it! We are declaring July as "Feed the Bards" month. What we would like for you, the readers, to do is every time you send a note to a bard, cc or bcc us at email@example.com. On July 31st, send us a tally of how many bards you took a minute to thank and whoever has the highest number will get a token of our appreciation from the Academy.
So there. You can do your part by writing to each of the authors listed below, and then you can make your way up & down the Excellent Alternative Stories and Hubba-hubba sections. Go, go, go!
* Alternative Stories: "The Charioteer: In the City of Har" by Smitty
* Alternative Stories: "Habaname" by Ana Ortiz
* Hubba-hubba Stories: "Talking Her Down" by Angelrad
Oh, and just so you all know - I received some *excellent* recommendations from a bunch of very nice people and I will be posting them... well, not soon, because summer vacation looms ahead, but they'll be up. And then you'll get to thank _them_ as well.
Have a safe and rollicking 4th, everyone, and keep 'em coming! And reading!
PS - Looking for a name of the story or the bard who wrote it - It's story set in an alternative Xenaverse where Xena never met Ceasar, but remained a pirate. She comes across a young blonde girl and takes her up on her ship. As the girl grows up, a friendship develops, until it's time for, yes, Gabrielle to leave to the Academy of Bards and leave Xena behind. Distance between them makes the heart grow fonder and...
Does any of this sound familiar? If you know the story I'm talking about, please, please drop me a note at firstname.lastname@example.org.
May 13th, 2002:
You know, it's been so long since I have given you an honest-to-Buddha recommendation, I am truly embarrassed. Not only embarrassed, mind you - I have a full blown case of Catholic guilt weighing down upon me. There's them Blurb people out there - *their* site is all nice and shiny and chock-full of reviews. There is a great number of scorchingly beautiful fan fiction available for your perusal. There are y'all, my faithful readers ('lo Martha. Whassup Joe? Kitty.) eagerly awaiting direction from yours truly.
And what do I do? What do I do in the past five loooong weeks since last you've heard from me? Save baby seals? No. Plant organic hemp in order to help clothe Chechen rebels? Nyet. Use propaganda dissemination and surveillance tactics in order to find out if the new hot blonde temp is gay? … never mind that. (She's not, the hetero wench.)
But I have been busy. I read a great deal of fan fiction, I have. I also offered my (unsolicited) opinion to a number of budding authors (Ana, when I said 'rimming', I meant it in the 'salt and margarita glass' context. Honest.). I've also managed to flirt my way into a passing grade in my grad class. (Note to all you econ students out there - "I believe the spread of the data coagulates magnificently with the thrust of the stipulation" will get you through any and all tricky personal sessions with the professor).
Aside from that, I've become a born-again virgin. It's easy, you give these Born Again people a check for $25, sign a dotted line, and walk out with your own 'born again' title. And I checked - you are not *technically* required to use the 'born again' part when introducing yourself to people. In my case, I guess, it'd almost come (heh) as a given, but still…
Ok, really now, on with the recommendations. Just because I can and want to, I shall proclaim this month to be the "Her Excellence, Vivian Darkbloom" month. Why? I told you - just because. Not to mention the fact that I have two recommendations for Ms Darkbloom's stories. Makes sense, don’t it?
I also have to tell you - and I hope Vivian won't mind sharing the spotlight with such a… timeworthy… activity - May is the National Month of Masturbation. Honest! You don't believe me (and, really, you shouldn't) - check it out for yourself.
So, in honor of the occasion, A) - I will be taking pledges for the Masturbate-a-thon and B) here is a little something to get you in the right mood to … participate fully.
* My Stuff: Afternoon Meanderings by Yours Truly
That all said - go read some Darkbloom and give your hormones free reign for the rest of the month. Come now, it's the least you can do.
* Alternative Stories: "Appetite" by Vivian Darkbloom
* Alternative Stories: "Her Majesty's a Pretty Nice Girl" by Vivian Darkbloom
April 30th, 2002:
Yeah, yeah, overdue for another review update and all, what can I say? Much, but I won't, so there!
Okay, I will tell you that I took my final yesterday and that I was doubly glad I had the foresight to wear the *tight* red shirt, as opposed to the not-so-tight one. And the professor noticed. So, hopefully, I should be all set to go... (What, did you honestly think I'm the kind of person who'd be _above_ such things? Pfft!)
Anyway, since I don't have a new recommendation (yet) - what the hell am I bugging you for, right? Well, *I* might be a lazy-ass and whatnot, but them folks at Blurb are not. They have a new and Very Much Improved site up and going with - gasp - brand new reviews of stories you want to read!!!
Bastards! Making me look bad!
But that's okay.
See, I'm nothing if not forgiving.
Soooo, yeah, anyway - here's some new reviews for ya:
Blurb Review Site
Enjoy, and let Jlynn know how you like the new design, ya hear?
Hasta luego mis enamoradas, yo.
March 28th, 2002:
Hey there! Yea, yea, I've been a bad girl, not updating and all that. Honestly though, I just didn't have time.
I spent a week in London a couple of weeks ago. What can I tell you, it was a wonderful cultural experience, all around. Saw the Stonehenge, saw Leonardo's "Madonna and the Child", went to China White, the super-exclusive rich-people club where Madonna (sans child) goes out to on her nights off.
So, let's see: pre-historic paganism, high-Renaissance art and current pop-culture -- yeah, got all the bases covered.
So, like, I've been saying for good - oh - six years now that I'll get a tattoo. It took me a while to figure out what to get and where on this precious body of mine, now I've just got one more matter to take care of - which tattoo parlor? Anyone out there up to recommending a place within New England?
Other exciting news - Ani will be in Boston on the 5th and guess who has fifth-row tickets? I went out and bought a red bra especially for the occasion. I'm finally within throwing distance.
What else? mmm... Oh! If you haven't already, go read Sarah Waters' books! "Tipping the Velvet" (and how I do love what the title stands for) and "Affinity" are gorgeously written lesbian novels set in Victorian times. Absolutely engaging. I give 'em two thumbs up!
And now, finally, without further ado, here are some goodies for you:
* Alternative Stories: "Storms of War" by JLynn
* Alternative Stories: "Elemental Properties" by CL Bactad
February 21st, 2002:
Hey y'all. I'm baa-aack.
Started school. As in, Masters of Science in International Economics. Part time. After work. At night.
Not the funnest way to spend my free time, as you may imagine. I'm not even really sure why I'm doing it. As a matter of fact, I'd like to take a poll.
I'd like all of you with an opinion to drop me a line and tell me if I should a) persist in my educational endeavor or b) go back to reading/writing Xena smut
No, really. What do you think?
Other than that - Pats won. Do I care? No, not really. Just figured I ought to mention it.
Went back to New Orleans. Just got back, as a matter of fact. If anyone ever decides to give that fair city a try and not just for the 'historical' side of
things, gimme a call. I'll point you to all the wrong people and all the bad places. It felt like coming home, New Orleans did. And that ought to tell you something
when you take into consideration that you're reading something written by a woman whose favorite pasttimes are reading Xena smut and visiting strip clubs.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Ok, back to business. Some excellent, *excellent* writers out there recently. Terrific, really. So much good stuff out there, as a matter of fact, I've had
little time to harp about it on this site. But here's just a taste.
Oh! Oh, and what a treat I have for you here! A guest reviewer! I kid you not. And not just any Jane Xenafan out there, but one of the best new authors
to come out (heh) in the past year.
Okay, here it is:
* Alternative Stories: "Hesed" by Mayt
* Alternative Stories: "Fiction" by Ana Ortiz
and (drum roll)...
* Alternative Stories: "Kwaidan" by Nene Adams (recommended by Crème Brûlée)
If you got any suggestions and/or are interested in helping my lazy ass out and actaully writing a recommendation yourself, you know where to find me.
January 10th, 2002:
Hello sweetlings, I'm back.
The New Year's was... blurry and loud comes to mind. I am yet to come up with any resolutions for the year. Well, besides "I will not be lured into doing the amateur night at The Squire".
Nu-huh. No way. But I will go visit every now and then...
Though, I have to tell you - a purely scientific conclusion - strip clubs in Massachusetts are a bit of an oxymoron. They even do *that* Puritanically. I mean, if you can't get a very up-close-and-personal facefull, what's the point?
Then again, I don't remember complaining at the time...
Here's the update:
* Alternative Stories: "And a Nightingale" and "Who Needs an Angel or Two, Anyway?" by The Fallen
* Alternative Stories: "Puss in Boots" by LaLa
All the best in the New Year, and keep writin' and keep readin'.
What was that saying about too much time and idle hands? And before you go there - I'm not talking about mastrubatory techniques.
Just killed an hour doing this. Pfft - gone, just like that. So I figure I could help you kill five minutes by reading it.
Joyous holidays - if you celebrate any of them - and if not, happy time off. And remember, it can't be *that* bad.
"Iowa" by Yours Truly
Wow. I guess I've started doing these once a month, eh? Yeah, well, I'm a busy woman, what can I say?
Okay, here's the latest gripe - the Boston lesbian scene.
Some might say - what lesbian scene?
Are you, or are you not (and you will be now) aware of the fact that there are NO New Year's celebrations organized for a purely female audience of the Sapphic disposition in Boston? No lie. Dozens - and I am not exaggerating here - parties of all kinds for gay boys. Dozens. Zero for women (if you exclude the obligatory 'couples in their fourties in a country club' kind of thing).
And am I, like, the only one who is finding this deeply disturbing? Not to mention depressing?
Here's the update:
* Alternative Stories: "Conqueror" by Catherine Wilson
* Alternative Stories: "Strings Attached" by Inyx
* Hubba-Hubba: "Agony" by Silk & TZ
Also, if anyone's interested, one of the stories submited for the Bard's Challenge on the Academy of Bards was mine, and can now be viewed here:
"Our Grand Western Adventure" by Yours Truly
Okay, so I was trying to deny it, but I *have been* in a really mushy mood lately, and what can I say – it comes out in my choice of recommendations… Great stories. Just don’t expect any action, if you know what I mean…
In the other news – my posse’s gathering in Boston this weekend. Innocents, beware! If you see Lesbians Behaving Badly, wave. I’ll flash you, I promise.
What else… Oh. Right. Got a new job. See, I knew that accounting is boring. No great news there. What I *didn’t* know is the fact that there are multiple levels of boring when it comes to accounting jobs. And I’ve managed to land one which stands at the pinnacle of boredom.
Still. It’s a paying job…
…and prostitution is still not legal in Massachusetts…
Enjoy, and I’ll catch up with y’alls later.
* Alternative Stories: "Wounded" by Tonya Muir
* Alternative Stories: "First Date" by Kamouraskan
Oh, I know, I know…
But I’m back.
Let’s see. Lots of stuff happened. Went to Women’s Week in P-town. Never saw so many lesbian *couples* all at the same place before. It was a veritable ‘look but can’t touch’ kind of an event.
I’ve also realized that ‘dating’ is a horrible, horrible concept meant to denigrate both people involved, in a most embarrassing manner in a *public setting*, and all for no good reason. I denounce it forthwith! And you should too! (The whole U-Haul scheme is making soooo much more sense now).
I also realized I need to up the level of smut in my life if I am ever to reach the true meaning of happiness. Which in turn made me think about this site and the concept it’s based on.
I mean – the name of this site is “Xenalicious’s Fan Fiction Recommendations (or a place where it doesn’t take you long to find a good sex scene).
Um, hello? Skipping on my smutly duties, am I? Bad Xenalicious! Bad, bad! I should be spanked!
Before any volunteers step up, I would like to use this opportunity to try make it up to you. Below you will find my offering for this time, three delectable Hubba-Hubba stories.
I hope you enjoy. Lucy knows I did. Er, Lord! Lord knows I did! Yeah… Anyway…
* Hubba-Hubba: "Private Dancer" by Vertigo
* Hubba-Hubba: "Wednesday Afternoon Series" by Mavis Applewater
* Hubba-Hubba: "Working Lunch" by Karen Malevich
Well, do I's have some goodies for you this time, or what? Since I was bed-ridden most of the day on Saturday (what a way to realize I'm way too old for drinking games) I had some time to dedicate to you, my loyal... whatevers, and come up with a couple of must-reads for you. Here they are:
* Alternative Stories: "When the Land is Dark" by Day
* Alternative Stories: "One Flew Uber the Chakram's Nest" by Stacia Seaman
Btw - if you ever find yourself in Boston on any given last Sunday of the month - make sure you stop by Ryles and expose yourselves to the joys of the Amazon Poetry Slam. Trust me - if the poets are good - the experience is very good. If the poets are bad - it's so good you won't stop laughing for hours afterwards. To yourself, of course. Quietly. With dignity and respect.
Rainy weather and a bomb threat keeping you at home this weekend? Worry not. Here's some reading, exclusively for your pleasure:
* Alternative Stories: "Hi no Tori" by Quatorz
* Hubba-Hubba: "Stud" by Sarah Berry
Did you know that when you sneeze all your organs stop functioning for a briefest period of time? It's true. Which would mean that, cumulatively, I've been brain-dead (among other things) for over an hour in the past three days. I make a *tremendously* bad sick person. Especially when I sneeze. I abhor sneezing. But I'll live. It's all about perspective, isn't it? Have a good weekend, y'all.
It seems the way for me to cope is to engage in some serious escapism...
Well, you've seen it here first, folk. I've got a new story written, it's a PWP. Imagine that. I also added a new subsection to the site, go check it out here:
The new story's called "One of Those Days", and you can find it there. Let me know what you think, and stay well.
Please take a moment to send your thoughts and prayers to all those lost today and all the ones they left behind. Sometimes you just have to wonder about the human race.
Hello there kiddies! I’ve been slacking, I know. Honestly, though, they’ve been, like, making me do work at my place of employment.
No, I don’t know what they’re thinking. Someone ought to sit them down and have a nice, long talk about the right to self-expression at workplace. Honest.
I have one recommendation for you, but I have been working on a little sumpin’-sumpin’ on the side, just for your enjoyment. Plus, once I get my act together, I’ll have another really cool update to the site. At least, I think it’s cool. So, it is.
* Alternative Stories: "Turning the Wheel" by Mary Morgan
It’s a new story by one of my truly favoritest authors out there. Please do drop her a line when you’re done, and try to get her to write more. And remember – bribery works wonders if applied skillfully…
Holy Mother of God!
I’m in love! I am. I am in love with the absolute debauchery and decadence and astounding skankyness that New Orleans is. That, and I’ve decided I want to be a gay man when I grow up.
Have you had a chance to watch one of those road-trip/spring break movies yet? Well, superimpose that onto my weekend in the Big Easy (so many things are clearer about that name now), and you’ll get the gist of what Xenalicious went through in the last three days. Whee!
Few pointers ahead:
- If you are going to go to a strip club in New Orleans (and of course you are), the cover charge for the Hustler Club is *more* than worth it. Trust me. Oh, and while you’re there, say hello to the lovely Shellie for me, will ya? Best $20 I spent in a *long* time.
- Margaret Cho’s on tour. Now, I can’t guarantee that her show will be nearly as raunchy/filled with homo jokes as the one in New Orleans was, but you should definitely go see her.
- Dancing on table-tops is *not* a good idea at the point of the night when even the good ole’ pavement is too unstable for you. Don’t ask.
- Make sure that the only sober person in the group does not have access to any video/audio-recording devices.
- Mom, I’m joking. He-he.
- Cock-rings are versatile. Or so I hear.
- If you’re averse to seeing penises up-close and personal, do not come near Bourbon St during Southern Decadence. I saw more cock in the past three days (trust me, there's no nicer way to put this) than a yearlong subscription to Playgirl could provide me with. (Shudder)
Well, I got all reinvigorated and inspired, so expect a few more recommendations pretty soon.
Ta-ta for now, sweetie darlings.
Well, those who wait... wait a really long time.
But I finally got a bit of time, so here's a recommendation I cannot believe didn't find it's way onto this website earlier than now. Need another proof that drugs are bad for you? Well, here I am.
Off to New Orleans tomorrow. What a better way to bid adieu to summer but to spend a weekend in a town overrun with randy gay boys during a festival whose official theme is "Menage a Trois"?
That's what I thought.
What else? Not much. Still looking for a job. Still pondering the effect of electro-magnetic impulses of the Earth's core on the African Violet. Think they can feel it? I just don't know...
If you figure it out, let me know. In the meantime, here's some Darkbloom for ya, to tide you over until I return to entertain you with more of my witty insight.
* Alternative Stories: "White Trash Series" by Vivian Darkbloom
Hey, hey, worry not. I have not forgotten you. Granted, still no new recommendations, but I'm working on it. Here's the update - Melissa Etheridge concert this past Friday.
Oh. My. God.
I take it back. I take it all back. She's not too old to... date. Not by far. Not at all. The concert was amazing, and once again begs the question - after, what, twelve, thirteen years in the business - why hasn't she put out a live album yet? Tsk-tsk.
I'd also like to say what else I did at the concert, but such details might jeopardize (and I'm borrowing a phrase here) my status as "mysterious entity", and we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?
What else? Well, the concert was followed by an intensive three-day 'screening process' (I kid you not, this is the term they used) for the job I am applying for. And I bet you thought I was kidding about seeking government employment, huh?
In short, gimme some time to get my wits about me (yeah, right), and I'll regal you with more recommendations pretty soon.
I got inspired, what can I say? Enjoy.
* Alternative Stories: "Home Fires" by Roo
* Alternative Stories: "DC" by Lizzy Tendre
Well, you'll have to do with the review of "BB&K" for now - I was out and about doing the lesbian thing this weekend (imagine that), so no new recommendations.
For any of you who found yourselves at the Newport Folk Festival on Sunday, and saw a woman with a (very elongated) camera wearing a maroon Xena and Gabrielle T-shirt... that wasn't me. But nice try.
I'm tired and I'd like to do as little thinking as possible this week, so if you've been dying to make contact of the fan fiction kind and impress me with your esoteric knowledge of all things written, now would be the time to drop me a line and make a recommendation. For those of you not versed in Xenalicious-speak - well, tough.
Hasta proxima semana, baby.
Oh, I just couldn't wait. Go, enjoy yourselves!
Speaking of enjoyment, anyone else appreciate August on the Xena calendar as much as I am right now? Tchah, and people think I watched Xena for the driving plot twists and excellent acting! Please.
* Alternative Stories: "Belle, Booke & Kandell" by McJohn
Hey, lookee here what I figured out how to do! (All by myself, mind you.)
June&July What's New
This is like a wet dream come true! Lucy to guest-star on the X-Files? Somebody pinch me! (Ooh, naughty...)
Let the uber-crossover madness commence...
(Off to blot the drool off)
Four words to describe bliss:
(Bliss of the non-sexual kind, of course. Otherwise, it'd be something like "Yes, oh god, yes!")
July 27th(Or something. It's Saturday, I know that):
I have become the newest convert to the "Latina Women Lovers" religion. It's sinfull. The slightly raspy voice, the long black hair, the language that glides across your skin gently, lapping, before showing teeth and scraping down the length of your back deliciously...
You know what I'm talking about, right? Let me just tell you, I'm glad last night's barbecue feast, during which I had to sit across this Venezuelan beauty and not drool, did not include drumsticks. It was bad enough watching her lick her fingers. But really. It's not like I couldn't control myself.
I'm thinking it's a conspiracy - first these beautiful, bodacious, busty Texan cowgirls, flexing their thighs around the mechanical bull and I - transfixed by the sheer... naughtiness of what the Texans ferociously claim to be 'clean fun for the whole family'. And then, just when I thought I had it all back together again, the sight of the slender brunette (in my own back yard!!) with skin the color of caramel - the color that hints as much at sun that kissed it as at the fire beneath it.
Sigh. It must be that time of the month. Why else the bad poetics? Either that or I'm in love. And I prefer the worst of PMS to that *anytime*.
But enough about me. "I Will Survive" was not the theme song to my college for no reason...
* Alternative Stories: "Lucifer Rising" by Sharon Bowers
* Alternative Stories: "Callisto's Antidote" by Friction
* Hubba-hubba!: "Something I Need" by Rooks
* Hubba-hubba!: "Prisoner of War" by Kodi Wolf
Well, I'm off to recuperate and get ready for another assault on my taxed senses. You know how they tell you - "don't only exercise on the weekends, you overexert your body in the span of two days, and underwork it during the week, increasing chance of injuries"? Well, hell, why don't they tag the same disclaimer for partying? We should not be allowed to contain the good times only to the weekend! We overdo it! We risk doing stupid things in front of attractive people, because we think - this is my chance, I probably won't see her till next weekend!
Or maybe I'm just trying (gasp) to rationalize my behavior.
But think about it...
Ok, kids, later...