By Jeff Walsh
With his acoustic album "Motorcycle Childhood," Tyson Meade uses spare arrangement and raw vocals to share details of his life. It's very different from his other role as the openly gay lead singer of the Chainsaw Kittens, where he used to take to the stage in lipstick, tights and mini-skirts.
By Janis Ian
In a small town somewhere at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains, teachers prepare for the coming semester. Professors grimly consult lesson plans, breaking in new Dockers ("I still wear the same size I wore when I graduated," they brag, bellies hanging over their straining waistlines like blubber off Ahab's whaler). Dormitories are surrounded by troops of exterminators bent on eradicating last year's mess before the health department shows up for a final check. The grounds are infested with newly arrived victims, ready to give the university their all and terrified that anything beyond the boundaries of the parents' homes will eat them alive. If they only knew.
By Janis Ian
I am standing with my tit caught in a wringer while a mall-haired technician tells me to relax. I am thinking that if men had to put their testicles in a vise as part of a yearly physical, we would have a cure for the common cold by now. I am very frightened.
The pink slip came as we were leaving on vacation: "We have found what appears to be a routine abnormality..." What's routine about an abnormality? I decide to put on a brave front and joke that in all my life no one has ever called me routine; then I burst into tears. Later on I do the grown-up thing and panic, furtively examining my breasts in the mirror for changes. I'm afraid that if I touch them to check for lumps, I will set something off. I wish they were smaller. I wish they were removable. I wish they were on anyone but me.
Happy Tuesday. I'm cheerfully ignoring Boccaccio this hour, having made it through French class despite being unprepared. It turned out that we were talking about Rimbaud and Verlaine -- I can do gay at the drop of a hat!
It is me the one who tends to toy with others emotions. I live in a small town in GA and it sucks. My friends call me Felix because they say my personality is like a cat's. I will be you slave as long as you pleasure me. I am only out in the night looking for prey, a lover if you like. So who wants to have fun?
Late last night I was temped into getting drunk again and behold I drunk my vodka. The liqure began to ramm my brain with it's dizziness spell, my body relaxes, and drifts away to sleep, forgetting the previous worries. God the dream was so morbid. I drift around, in a blink light, I saw myself with a limp left arm (possiblity of wanking to much to porn till the muscles gave out). Damn pass me the muscle relaxer! I walk around with this other dude, possiblity a son, or a good friend that I never had. There was alot of doors that led me anywhere. I dont remember what but it was wicked.
What a weekend... well, Ilana and I aren't dating anymore. I can't stand the long distance, this is for good. There is no going back now. 6 months and some odd days... I'll never forget that time, and we are still going to be very good friends. ((Rachelle... you are going to hurt me...:)))
Let's see, how do I say this. First of all I can't identify as lesbian anymore... all because of Zach.
Ladies and Gentlemen, your advice please.... *drum role, please*... we have three choices.... three choices to help moi on my quest to rejoin the civilized world. Read on (n.b. free food:))
So for the first time in a long time today, I was really depressed. It's almost always been an issue, but today it was so much worse than usual. I guess it started when I woke up late today so I could finish up a paper for english. Which ended up being a 3.5 page paper (go me :)), but I missed my favorite period, ceramics. Well, I went to school and shit, got through the day (it wasnt so bad) but then I had to go to the bank after school to cash my pay-check.