Why use someone else's rules when you can change the game to suit you?
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It's important to know whose rules we're playing by, and whether or not they work for us. The joy of queerness is that if they don't work, we can change them. And also we get free tacos on Tuesdays.
Commemorating a sexy encounter, a shiny bicycle, and a wanky explanation about what works for you might not work for me, why that's ok, and what I can do about it. Also, don't be afraid to tell people how you feel. Or be afraid, then do it anyway.
Stories of queer life and even queer-er sex.
The repeatedly award-winning, slightly filthy storytelling project tackling LGBTQ issues in a fun and engaging way. Created to remind all of our queer siblings that we are none of us alone.
Much like its creator, it’s a smutty-but-charming collection of personal misadventures working to make the world a better place, one silly, sexy story at a time.
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Hello! If you just can’t get enough of this filth, I have good news! Even if you can get enough of this filth, to be honest. Anyway. I’ve started a free Discord server chat thing for all of you.
Basically, if you’re not down with the kids, it’s a sort of community forum thing that lives on an app on your phone or computer, and you can chat with other like-minded strumpets, find out more about my life (it’s fabulous, obviously) and have opinions on the future of the podcast, and stuff. To be honest. I’m all about the memes. I post a lot of stupid funny pictures I find on the internet. There’s even a separate section, just for uplifting memes, for when you've had a bad day. Anyway. There’s a link in the show notes, and I’d love to see you in there. Basically at the moment it’s just me and it’s reminding me a little bit of that time no-one came to my birthday. It’s free, it’s fun, you might even enjoy it.
I had a ridiculously good sexy time with a gorgeous young man recently. Not just the mechanical bits, which were admittedly very good. We’re both clearly Olympic-level sexpeople. Which in itself was a lovely surprise. It’s always nice when you’re up against, or underneath or on top of, someone who is a match for your talents. Part of me was like “Finally! A worthy opponent! The years of training are paying off! Omnomnomnom!”
Oh look, I’m back.
But it wasn’t just the technical proficiency of this particular tart that made it good.
Maybe it was the tension between us, as we’d fancied each other for ages but never got around to hooking up. Mostly because he lives on the other side of the city, and I have a strict rule about not travelling more than 1km, or 10 minutes’ walk, for a hookup, as they are almost never worth it, and I could just as easily have a wank and get on with my day. On this occasion, he just happened to be in my neighbourhood and it would have been rude not to take advantage of that.
Maybe it was the fact that he was sexy, confident and fun to be naked with, and wasn’t afraid to make lovely noises when I did things to him.
Maybe it was the way he arched his back while sitting on my face, or the way the sunlight glinted in his well-manscaped pubes…
C’mon, tell me you haven’t missed this.
Anyway. Afterwards, he fell asleep in my arms. And it’s always a good test of how I feel about someone when they start snoring in my ear and drooling on my shoulder and I don’t mind. Much. And so we laid there, blissed out until it was time for me to go. As I was kissing him goodbye, I was moved to do something, well, to say something, that I wouldn’t normally. I leaned in, kissed him and said “Fuck, I fancy you.”
Which you might think was obvious, considering our recent Adult Activities, and the fact that he still had a few spots of my affection in the stubble near his mouth, but it’s not always the case. There’s been plenty of times I’ve shagged someone who I didn’t much fancy. As long as they exceeded the minimum standards I set myself for a shag, that was all that mattered. And sometimes that’s ok. Other times I thought I fancied someone until we met up, and then I realised it was just their hair that I fancied, or they turned out to be hot but a mouth-breather or owned a cat, or something equally revolting.
This guy wasn’t in the ‘You’ll do’ column, he was very much in my ‘Phwoar’ column. And I decided to tell him. That might not seem like a big revelation, but to me, it kinda was. To be honest with this person, and slightly vulnerable, it was kinda exciting, to be honest. Just to, even for a moment, elevate the excitement of our sweaty grunting from body-on-body funtimes to something with just a little bit of nervousness and excitement to it was… really quite exhilarating. I’m not saying he’s boyfriend material, so don’t go buying a hat or anything like that, but just expressing a genuine bit of emotion to someone is kinda new to me. Especially someone I’m having sex with.
It feels a bit like breaking some kind of rule. Like, there are ways to ‘play the game’ of dating people, and things you’re not supposed to do.
Like, you’re supposed to wait a certain amount of time before texting back, or play it cool rather than tell someone you fancy them, or never double-text someone, always wait for a response before texting them again…
It feels like a very 90s thing, to be honest. Play it cool, seem disaffected and uninterested, just shrug everything off and don’t show any emotion…
And I’m not sure I agree. Some excitement, some passion is very sexy, and definitely something I look for in a lover. Playing it cool and unaffected is ok, I guess, but it gets boring quickly. There’s something sexy about a guy who’s not afraid of showing how excited he is about something. Maybe this is a British thing. We’re not great with emotions at the ebay of times. Most of the empire was built on a burning desire to spend as little time as possible with wives and children, after all.
Wait three days before texting back after a date? Why? We could all be dead on Thursday. Tell them now.
If you want to tell someone you fancy them, go for it. Obviously don’t be creepy about it. You don’t need to compose a sonnet and spell it out on their front lawn with bits of their pet cat, but there’s nothing stopping you from politely and respectfully telling someone how you feel.
If you want to text someone twice without waiting for a reply, go for it. What are they going to do, ignore me harder? Obviously if they’ve given you ‘stop’ signals, you should just fuckign stop, but if it’s an ongoing conmversation and you’ve texted them once, I don’t think you have to ‘wait your turn’.
I’ve talked a bit about this before in the Love Languages miniseries I did last year, (go and listen to it again, please and thank you. Not because there’s extra layers to it, I just want my stats to go up a bit.) and there’s something so miserable about having to pretend not to care because that’s ‘cooler’ than actually experiencing joy or excitement.
I was reminded of this a while ago, when my housemate ordered a new bike. It’s one of those super expensive wanky carbon fibre jobs. He was excited and looking forward to the delivery date, tracking the parcel as it got closer, and then, when it the doorbell went and it arrived, he was beside himself. Oh! Oh! Great! It’s here! I’ve got to go to work in like ten minutes! Oh! Fuck!
It was the most adorable thing I’ve seen in ages.
And the other side of this is letting people get excited, and resisting the temptation to mock them for it, which would be like pissing on their chips for no reaosn. The temptation was there for me to say something like “It’s only a bike.god, calm down…” or “It’s only going to get nicked like your last one did…” or something. But he was so genuinely excited and it would have felt like stomping all over someone’s sandcastle. There’s no need. Life is dull and miserable enough, without you chipping away at what actual joy and excitement people find. So, let people be excited about stupid stuff.
Let yourself be excited about stupid stuff.
You don’t have to be aloof and unaffected like some kind of massive tosspot. I’d much rather be surrounded by people who’re genuinely passionate and not afraid to show it.
So, break those rules. Do the things you want when you want. Text your crush. Order chips instead of a salad. Set a Tory on fire. Whatever brings you joy, you should probably do.
One of the joys of being Queer, apart from all of that fun sexy stuff, and the free tacos every Tuesday, is that we don’t have to follow straight people rules. We’re already outside their sad boring little world, so we’re much freer to decide which rules of their are worth sticking to (like, driving on the correct side of the road, not sticking fireworks up your nose, things like that, and which ones aren’t, like monogamy, or marriage, or liking James Corden.
Because there’s too much sticking to rules that aren’t ours. Or maybe they’re ours, but only because we got them from boring people and haven’t bothered to update them yet. Maybe they don’t really work for us any more, but we still do things that way, because we always have….
I was talking to a lovely queer person a while ago, who was telling me that they were practising ‘relationship anarchy’.
And when I first heard them say that, I thought it sounded really wanky and pretentious.
After they’d finished talking, which incidentally took a lot longer than you’d expect, I still thought it sounded wanky and pretentious. But I went away and did a bit of research (I know, it’s like I’m taking this seriously or something) and actually, the underlying concept is a pretty good idea, it just got dressed up into some kind of woke way of saying “we can date, but as soon as I find someone better, I’m off.”
When it’s done right, the basics of it are that you get to define your relationships and the people that you’re intimate with yourself. So, rather than just finding one person to be with forever, you might decide to have several people that you get different needs fulfilled by. Think of it a bit like pick n mix but for relationships. There’s more to it than that, but I got bored and stopped reading. Basically, your relationships don’t have to be like everyone else’s - as long as they work for you and anyone else directly involved, that’s all that matters. You get to define your relationships however works for you, rather than just going with what other people think it should be.
And I’m very down for that. Do your own thing, make your own rules. Communicate them properly to everyone else involved, obviously. Otherwise you’re just being an insufferable dick.
Let’s have other ‘anarchies’, too. Food anarchy! Yesterday I ate nothing but salad. Tomorrow I shall have ice-cream and gravy for my starter, followed by deep-fried skittles. Because fuck it, why not?
Gender anarchy! Maybe I’ll grow a huge beard and a hairy chest, use she-her pronouns, and only leave the house wearing a cocktail dress.
Because life is a lot like my penis: Occasionally quite hard, far too short, but there’s still fun to be had if you know how. Also it’s started oozing this weird green…