The Full Story

As you know in early August I had a wee trip to Auckland and a few adventures while I was there. One of the stories was about being treated very rudely at a stag party  by some paranoid women.  I can now tell you a few more details.

The stag party was being held for a "prominent lesbian media couple", and yes one must have their tongue firmly in cheek when reading that. The couple were to be unionised shortly after the party, I can't use the term civilised because, well, some were not very civil.

As they are such "famous" women they had sold their story to the New Idea, such a high class publication that it is, and when one of the couple found I was a blogger she feared I would write something that may jeopardise the story, cos, like, you know I'm so famous and well read and all that. However rather than approach me myself she sent X-men girl to do the job, who did it badly as X-men girl had no idea of what a blog was or even how to access one on her dial up connection. I must say though that the genuine media part of the couple, aka the news-reader, had no part in this drama at all and was very pleasant all evening.

So finally the story has been published in this weeks edition, but you will need to look at the hard copy to get the pictures, however here is the original story of the "engagement".  

One assumes then that "media" is obviously not a very lucrative industry.

Dear all current and future dinner dates,

Please take note that when the wining and dining section of the evening ends and I innocently suggest popping up to S & M's for a quick nightcap the correct answer is NO.

You know that once I get there I will start drinking hard liquor and then; play with the minds of the straight couples and let them think they're in luck, annoy the gay boys by winning on the pool table without sinking a ball, give my business card to inappropriate people cos they are clients who've been sprung, and take up far too much space on the dance floor when dancing with the boygirl.

The correct response is to remind me that now I am Madonna's age my body no longer processes alcohol at the rate it once did, and instead pour me into a taxi and tell me to go home.

Thank you

Unpclesbian

Tall Hot Butch

It seems I'm having a butch viewing week and this example of gorgeousness crossed my vision today, and no it's not the blonde I'm talking about!

You can find the full story here, though I do admit that the blonde doesn't look too bad in her combats.

NZM, this is your neck of the woods. Track her down for me! I've been a good girl, it's not too early for Christmas.

Happy Fathers Day....

......or "Beyond the L word # 2". A classic lesbian love story!!

As you know a few weeks ago I went on an apre ski trip to Taupo with a group of women, where an interesting time was had by all. On this trip NSBG and International Lesbian (yes I know, a new character, but I'm sure you can cope) fell instantly in love as only lesbians can. This fatal attraction caused a few reverberations around the group, due of course to the incestuous nature of lesbian society, but that is not part of this story.

International Lesbian then extended her time in NZ and came back to Wellington with NSBG via two nights at the Sperm Donors wedding venue. Airport closures meant they had to stay extra time in Taupo, and of course where else would one stay in those early heady lustful days. She then flew back to her home in Cactus country.

Six days later, as an unexpected surprise, International Lesbian turned up at my birthday party, which of course I was well pleased about as I love being surrounded by hot women. This surprise visit also meant that the meeting I had brokered between International Lesbian and Cactus had to be cancelled, which involved a Chinese national having to tell lies, Cactus being aware of this and thus having to resist the urge to make said Chinese national crumple. However I digress.

The day after my party was Fathers Day. NSBG had to meet with her barely ex husband that day to pick up the child, and when she did she and International Lesbian presented BeH with what must be one of the most interesting Fathers day proposals for quite some time, which was......

NSBG is moving to Hong Kong with International Lesbian and that BeH and child were to come too. International Lesbian had found an apartment in her block that they could live in, and everyone could move on to new lives. Apparently BeH was so gobsmacked that he had to tell the bartender at the venue what was going down, so some unknown bartender got to hear how this mans wife was moving off shore with her lesbian lover and taking her husband as well. Who needs better work stories.

Now I feel I must point out that all this decisive action and planning took place a mere 17 days after to two lovers hooked up, yet again proving the point I have made before , "what do lesbians do on their second date", move furniture in together!

However, in the last week I have found out that this is the second time that International Lesbian has met a woman while on holiday, packed her up and shifted her off to Hong Kong within the first two weeks. The last time she did it the relationship lasted for 4 years, which of course is 1 year longer that your average Lesbian relationship so as a modus operandi it seems to be an effective one.

I am saddened though as it means my highly amusing coffee dates, and over intoxicated party dates with the happy couple will be few and far between, but I do eagerly await to hear the tales of the life abroad.

Will I Succumb

I have been seduced by gorgeous piece of pink loveliness which I can't give you an image of because the stores website still has Winter 08 as their catalogue, however it is a double layer scrunched meshy thing which is going to go just brilliantly with Roisin Dubh.

While I was trying it on the shop assistant bought me some black trousers to try on with it. They were skinny trousers which at this point I don't wear. I do recall when flares came back in that I swore I was never going to wear them again, I crumpled after 6 months. So far I have not given into skinny jeans preferring slim boot flares.

However, this particular pair of trousers was made of a divine fabric, and when I put them on they fitted well, and, most shallowly of all were a size 10!! I have NEVER fitted size 10 trousers, plus they are a European label so they are a foreign size 10, not an NZ 10. I swooned! I was about to be seduced again when I looked properly and finally saw that they were about 2 inches too short. I don't think my ankle bones are meant to be showing.

I have been tempted. The "skinny" look trouser actually worked. I fear I may succumb soon to a pair, which of course is going to mean new shoes and accessories. Sometimes I should not be let out of the building.

And while I'm having a little rant about clothing I have found that a cool NZ fashion blogsite Blacklognz links to me. Now I just have to figure out how I can get them to supply me with clothes.

Needless to say I not done much revenue generating work today.

Easy Breezy Butch

Over the last week the American Lesbian blogs have been running with the story that Ellen de Generes has signed as the face of CoverGirl cosmetics.

This of course is all very modern and terribly niche market driven, and one should say "yay the sisterhood" but really it's just confirmation of the whitewash job being done on American society, the sanitation of Lesbian culture. First you have The L Word, which I admit I have never watched a full episode of, but have seen enough to view the perfect specimens of women portrayed, plus you have the Ellen show which dominates the talk show market.

These women are being portrayed as the acceptable face of lesbians, middle America is being lead to believe that this is what lesbians look like and live like, and the lesbians are getting excited and patting themselves on the back and saying their culture is finally being accepted by the masses. I don't think so!

Mainstream America is being lulled into a false image of your average lesbian. Ellen de Generes is being portrayed as butch, yup, that little blond thing below with the pink lippy is BUTCH.

Again, I DON'T THINK SO!

Funnily enough the subject and definition of butch and what it means to women is a regular dinner party topic in my house, though my personal specialist area is androgyny. Discussion can get quite heated at times, especially when one half of a couple realizes she is perceived as "butch", but doesn't see herself as such. Even though the consensus does seem to be that butch covers a wide range of perceptions, I am sure my chums will agree that Ellen de Generes is not butch.

Of course to justify that sweeping statement I do feel obliged to provide a specimen of true butch, and isn't she just divinely gorgeous.

I rest my case.

Sick Puppy

I'm too ill to blog, and I don't know why but as I write that the Dead Kennedys words "too drunk to fuck" come to mind. NEVER!!

I had to succumb and go to the Doctor yesterday, who promptly told me off for not having foreign animal cell matter pumped into me at the beginning of the flu season, sorry, I prefer the odds of maybe getting the flu. There I was thinking I was paying her for sympathy, though she did prescribe something to stop the nausea, so I can almost face food again.

I do have some tales to tell involving NSBG (who else) and a certain International Lesbian aka Hottest Woman Ever, and the worlds most interesting Fathers day present, but that will have to wait till the fog clears.

I will return......

Still not going to....

I have just now shaken hands with our future new Prime Minister. I escorted him on to the floor, got him some water in a clean shiny glass and settled him into the green room.

It's still not gonna make me vote!

Not going to....Can't make me

I spent Sunday afternoon having a long catch up with one of my guests as her flight wasn't till late afternoon. During the course of our chatter she informed me that she was a bit of technophobe, and had only recently got a cell phone because her children had bought it for her for Xmas. She said that she used the internet for banking and emails and that was all. This woman is in the final stages of her degree and confessed that she writes all her essays by hand then pays someone to type them up for her.

I of course then had to introduce her to the world of blog, so logged in and showed her what it was about. She started to look at this site then yelled at me in an alarmed manner "you don't vote!" She then started on a tirade about exercising my one democratic right blah blah blah, of course assuming that I had heard none of this before.

A tiny bit of background is needed here. I have known Ms W for many many years, 20 of which she spent living in London. When her relationship soured she packed up the children and moved back to NZ. She then bought a house, went on the benefit for her income and started doing her "women's studies" degree. Ms W will also tell you in great detail of her case worker at WINZ who has managed to get all of her tuition paid for so she doesn't have a student loan. This is a person who has not contributed to NZ taxes for over 20 years.

Like Ms W I am a single parent, however I work for my income, pay vast amounts in taxation and have paid off my student loan. So in my mind I am a fiscally contributing member of society and therefore I am supporting Ms W so she can eat and study.

I very gently explained to her that it is my democratic right to not vote if I so choose, and if I felt the need to voice my democratic right strongly I would, and have done in the past organising marches etc etc. She then tried to turn the debate to "what is my definition of a feminist?" (70's relic is the correct answer) and how oppressed women are in this country.

As I have good manners instilled in me, and have my Girl Guide badge to prove it, I deflected this line of discussion to less volatile topics all the while seething inside and wanting to say......what fukking right have you got to question me on my politics and feminist issues while you are a non contributing bludger off the state. It's women like you who perpetuate the freeloading benefit lifestyle that contributes to the "oppression" of women in this country.

Ms W fully thinks that when she has finished her degree she is going to walk into a policy job at Women's Affairs. THAT might inspire me to vote.

How Many....

Q: How many lesbians does it take to fix a broken heel on a boot?
A: 5

Q: How big does the hammer have to be to fix the boot?
A: The biggest you can find of course.

Q: How many days does it take for the owner of the boot to find that she has been out dancing and partying with her jeans hammered into her boot heel?
A: 3

Too funny, and jet lag is no excuse.......jet lust is though.

Cactus, when the peanut slab exchange finally takes place please thoroughly check this woman's attire.

More Evidence

More evidence that your average Lesbian is very very short.
















There was a pair of nine year olds at the party who spent the night in my bedroom, with a computer to play with and regular plates of party food. Apparently they told their Mothers that my room was was like a "Rock Stars" bedroom.

This of course fascinated me immensely and I had visions of the junior league fully appreciating the blue electric tulips and the pink fluffy accoutrement's, but sadly I find it's all to do with the ceiling, wardrobes and mirrors.

Must try harder.

Happy Birthday to Me

Happy birthday to me....Happy birthday to meeeeeee......Oh my, today is the actual day but all is ok, razor blades are safely locked away.

Happily I can say that I have not gone grey overnight, my breasts still hang ABOVE my waist, and as I have just discovered I can sneeze and stay dry. Life is good !!!

The party was a blast, and of course lots of gossip. Cactus, I don't think your 10am Wednesday morning meeting is going to make it, sorry, but she was a lovely unexpected visitor.

The few photo's I have got so far show that I appeared to have a breast obsession during the night and was captured observing several, starting with NSBG's.

I then got caught having a sneaky look at another pair, quite different dimensions and shape and so seldom fully on show that I had to make the most of it.

This was then followed by a pre going out check to make sure mine were in the correct position before going out the play on the dance floor with the 19 year olds.

We went and spent some time at S & M's, by that time I had progressed to Grand Marnier which for some reason always seems like a good idea at 2am. Oh, and a wee message to my darling fans out there....if you see me on the dance floor in the wee smalls it's really not a good time to come and gush and tell me how fabulous I am, my braincells are usually very much preoccupied with other things at that hour.

I eventually got home close to 3am to find that oldest and dearest with the help of number 1 daughter had cleaned everything up and left me a little caring treat of a jug of water, a clean glass and a vast slab of very alcoholic chocolate.

There is of course more to report but I am in severe need of coffee. To be continued......

Fashion Advice

A wee piece of fashion advice directed mainly at a delegate on the floor today.

If you are over 25 years old, and your BMI is well over 25, on no account should you wear a puff ball dress, and especially one where the "puffball" section ends mid calf.

However, the juxtaposition of the floral Nana print and high end fashion item is slightly interesting, it doesn't work, but it is interesting.

Dear Aunt Daisy

Dear Aunt Daisy,

I know you've been gone for a while, and out of print as well, but I've searched and searched the helpful hints in my copy of your bible and I can't find the answer anywhere. I'm sure you will know the answer, or if not then maybe Uncle Daisy will.

So, could you please tell me....how to get solder splatters off the carpet?

Lotsa love
Unpclesbian

Penance

I had a "Kylee" moment late last week, and yes only the inner circle will truly know what that means. However my penance for bending the ears (yet again) of my good friends was to turn up on the final day of the garden landscaping.

I had several tasks assigned to me, the first being to dig four bags of shit, oops, manure, through the new potato garden. I guess I should be grateful that I wasn't the one planting it.

The next assignment was to dig a large hole, the edge of which is bottom left in the picture. I dug a very nice hole, all tidy and square, but as I was doing it I had one of those instinctual thoughts being.....I bet they're gonna make me fill it in again as soon as I've finished. Yes, gut instinct correct every time, and this picture is of me filling the hole back in with a different material than I took out.

The final task was to then shovel about 2 semi trailers worth of dirt into a wheelbarrow and lay it all over the ground. I did get a wee reward after that, no not beer those bottles are empty, I got to play with the big concrete roller to flatten the dirt with. However, once I started smashing into the newly constructed raised vegetable gardens they took it off me, and I was only allowed the broom after that.

I am surprisingly ache free after my afternoon of forced hard labour, and I do admit that it was fun. And as said yesterday I forsee some many pleasant hours in the near future spent enjoying the fruits of every ones labour, including the fruits of the vine, and the fruits of the hops......