Red lipstick with condoms and birth control pills in pocket of jeans. Photo.

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a long time, but didn’t want to share it until I could be sure that someone reading could potentially take something from my worst sex ever. It’s also important to note that I’ve published this with the knowledge and consent of the person I’m writing about in this post.Read More →

This is another writing-as-therapy blog post, where I again explore emotions through song lyrics. I’ve spent a lot of the last few days flirting with cute humans and trying to arrange sex dates, and thus thinking a lot about how what I want out of a relationships. Do I want candlelight or face-fucking? Piss or roses? Do I have to make a choice at all?Read More →