Twirling, twirling, twirling toward freedom

I went to a burlesque show on Thursday night and was inspired to sign up for a burlesque workshop in mid-June. I've taken a burlesque dance class before, where we learned some moves, but this workshop is far more intensive. From the brochure:

Includes: Walks and character development, small reveals, glove and stocking removals, boa work, tassel twirling, parasol and fan work, and striptease tips.

What got me was the "tassel twirling." As in nipple tassels. The second half of the class is topless! Eep!

I wish I could say that the last time I was topless in front of a room full of women was high school gym class, but we were all too self-conscious about our bodies back then, and everyone was cowering in their corners, refusing to shower and covering up as much as humanly possible. So, I would say that I have never been topless in front of a room full of women. The only way this workshop will be like gym class is if the gym's water fountain were spiked with E.

So, it's a tad bit intimidating, but that's part of the reason I signed up. Everyone else is going to be topless, too, so I imagine we'll all just laugh and get used to it. Plus, if I yell, "Show me your tits," this is one of the few times that dozens of women will oblige. And who wouldn't want that?

If we don't already have nipple tassels, we were told to email the workshop's Head Mistress to order some in advance. So, I emailed her. This is what I got in response:

Savia, yes, can you please let me know what colour and what size. Small = tea light; large=soup can; medium=in between.

Knowing already that I am definitely not a soup can, I went to my candle holder, pulled out a tea light and whipped out a boob.

Medium it is.

Speechless

Anyone who says pole dancing isn't an art can suck it. This is one of the most amazing things I've seen in a long time. Enjoy!

My hips don't lie

I went to a professional event the other day and a guy came and sat next to me. He and I had crossed paths in the past, so it wasn't a big surprise. We had a nice chat over lunch and he was quite flirtatious. Then, he asked me out for coffee. I thought that would be fine, as we did have a number of professional things to talk about. Also, as I have been immersed in thesis research as of late, I have been trying to make an effort to be more social, lest I turn into a total book geek.

Most importantly, however, I discovered during the course of our conversation that he is from Africa and had read a lot of African literature; this means we could discuss my thesis and he would actually know what I was talking about, which made me very happy. Okay, forget that part about trying not to turn into a total book geek, because it just happened.

When I agreed to coffee with a professional and literary bent in mind, he made it very clear that it wasn't just coffee: "You are very beautiful and that is why I'm asking you for coffee." So, no deluding myself that this would not be a date. It caught me a bit off-guard, but at least I knew what I was getting into, should I decide to go through with it.

I ran into a friend of mine before I left the event, and said, "Hey, that guy over there just asked me out."

She looked shocked, "Uh, he's married!" She mentioned that he was a pretty flirtatious dude, but had never taken it that far with anyone she knew. Another guy who overheard our conversation said, "The brother's pretty aggressive." I responded, "It's the childbearing hips - they're a beacon to men from other countries. Never fails." He laughed and high-fived me.

As for the business card of smarmy married dude? Card, meet my recycling bin. I hope you'll be very happy together.

Overrated

There's an online project asking people to make a list of four things they consider overrated.

Here is my list:

1. The 69 position
2. Spray lube
3. Vibrating cock rings
4. Ginormously large penises

What's yours?

Bug sex

This video of Isabella Rossellini having sex with a giant fly rocks my world.

However, it is a distant second to her reenactment of sadomasochistic snail sex.


And, now that I think of it, probably third behind her lament over losing her penis in the Queen Bee's vagina...


Check out the whole Green Porno series. You won't regret it.

I fucking love crazy Italians.