Friday, March 29, 2013

Who's CSK?! A piece of fucking work!

 Who the fuck is Captain Sex Kitten?! 

She's the sassy, strong, infinitely badass superheroine that lives inside and guides the variety of moral, personal, social, and business decisions that come this way every day. She's tough. No nonsense. She rocks a big tool belt. She says out loud what a lot of people are thinking anyways, and mostly finds tactful ways to do it. She's an agent of change, a Sister Provocateur. 

So, our heroine recently found herself in an awkward conversation across the lunch table from a family member. "Well...I don't have a problem with this blog thing. But what if Aunt Shirleen sees this?!" 

First of all...You may not have a problem with it, but you're clearly concerned about what Aunt Shirleen thinks, and the fact that you mentioned it kind of translates into a secondhand problem. Second of all, if any of my relatives should stumble across this and it makes you uncomfortable, it's your job to STOP reading it NOW. Change the fucking channel! I have the sneaking suspicion, confirmed by mass email links sent out to the entire family, that Aunt Shirleen has spent more time contentedly googling famous rose gardens worldwide since the rise of the internet in her life. 

Many artists who create fantastically stimulating media only do so because they have been able to effectively stop giving a fuck about what anybody else thinks or says about their work and develop the ability to only tune in to the subtle voice of the artistic process. It's about the art, not the audience. Some will love it, some will hate it, such as it is.  

Keeping my "real" name off the Captain Sex Kitten site was a slight veil to separate my "professional" writing (media clippings that Aunt Shirleen can proudly collect in a scrapbook) from the casual gal-pal, f-bomb-laden chat you see here - but really, at this point in my life, most people who hire me for writing jobs do so because I'm actually really good at what I do and my work speaks for itself.

Exquisite communication - it's something I relish and revel in. Understanding others, and facilitating understanding between people in this world makes me glow. It's why I'm here. It's what makes me a great writer, a wonderful friend, a passionate, sensitive lover. It's what makes my world go round. 

KNOWING THYSELF is like, a lifelong project. Change is the only certainty in life. You can be somebody new each day you wake up, make new choices, lean in the direction of your purpose... but the essence of who you are, your own inner "Captain Sex Kitten" remains. Every single one of us can benefit from asking ourselves on a regular basis "Who the fuck AM I?!" and digging in until you find the fabulousity. 

So....WHO the fuck is Captain Sex Kitten?! 
I'll take you back to the beginning of this blog for the basics:
Hello Kitty!
And here is a recent interview (using my REAL name and all) with my besty, the beloved Bourbonista:
Big Weird Scars....in all the right places.

The story isn't finished. It's still being written. It doesn't end until I do, folks! 
Thank you all again for so many kind words of support and encouragement. If you keep reading, I'll keep writing. Love. 

As always, feel free to email me (or hire me to write or sparkle up your media for you) at CaptainSexKitten@gmail.com. I enjoy hearing from you all. <3   




  



Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Return of Captain Sex Kitten

Captain's Log

Captain Sex Kitten here. Logging on from Kentucky again. Yeah, so I will occasionally travel to the far reaches of the universe in pursuit of love, lust, and a life of passion and adventure. Truth. Sometimes there's just no reliable internet connection in outer space. Or at Burning Man for that matter.

Black Rock City never disappoints. The weirdness and wildness of the playa rearranges everything in your life at once. Mind, Body, and Spirit. Ask 100 citizens of Black Rock City what Burning Man is, get 100 different answers, each a piece of the entire truth. 

If you've never been to Burning Man, it's important to understand that the community embraces ten basic principles. The culture encourages freedom, and sexuality is only one of the many ways to express yourself. We're used to living in a culture where sexuality is maligned, feared, or distorted for political and commercial purposes. It's refreshing to get the fuck away from all that once a year. I can't name any citizen of Black Rock City who hasn't been transformed by their experience in some way, whether they chose to explore sexuality there or not. 

Earlier this week, after explaining Burners without Borders, an organization that actively works on grassroots community rebuilding and global health initiatives worldwide, the guy I was speaking to says: "Don't take this the wrong way, but it's not going to be easy to rally people to your causes when all they see of Burning Man is nudity and drug use." He works in advertising, and also says "Perception is truth!" all the time. Forest, meet the trees. My dumbfounded response: "Well, OK then."  I am not sure of his rich source of information on Burning Man, but I'm opting out of a battle in favor of an open discussion. 

I googled "sexuality at Burning Man" to get perspective from the peanut gallery, and found (Warning - it's AWFUL!!!) this.  Excruciatingly bad writing, empty sex, and marginal drug use. So yeah, it would be dumb to argue that there are no idiots at Burning Man or that nudity and drug use don't play a part in how outsiders view the entire event. However, some people genuinely embrace the freedom to pursue personal change and growth via sexual expression in a way that inspires and informs others. 

 Respect, safety, and regard to the personal boundaries of others is assumed and promoted as a culture. Running around naked and carefree in the desert is actually very exhilarating. In fact, our neighbors over at Glitter Camp offer head to to sparkling, for the fashionable nudist. I highly recommend it as an additional method of sun-reflection - "disco tits!"    

 Stay tuned, as Captain Sex Kitten digs up stories of safe, respectful sexual self-expression on the playa. From drug addled nudists to sacred sunset tantra. Behind the scenes with "adults only" theme camps. Making out with superstars. Finding value in the absurd. 

Yours truly, CSK. 







As always, feel free to write CaptainSexKitten@gmail.com, especially if you have sexy stories from the playa! xoxoxo  

 

Friday, August 17, 2012

My Beloved Bourbonista

Holy fuck, it's Friday, and Captain Sex Kitten salutes The Bourbinsta! The most glamorous high heeled bull in a china shop of all time, the mouth of the south, and one of my best friends on the face of the Earth . My Sister here has taught me everything I know about leaving my inhibitions at the door, unabashedly saying what I mean and meaning what I say. She is primarily responsible for inspiring my "choose your own adventure" style career path.  This blog exists due to her support (with shout outs to my other Sisters Provocateur), random notes taken during many back porch girl talks, bourbon on the rocks, and my willingness to take her dating advice and run with it. Some sort of social experiment gone happily awry, that's my love life. It's great. 

What will you find on The Bourbonista's blog? Poems about her vagina. Musings on the magic of cleavage. Non-violent ways to discourage strangers from living in your backyard. Stories about mishaps and misadventures in our Northside neighborhood. Dollywood mushroom diets. Tales from the turtles at her Lakeside retreat. A party girl gone feral.... Really, you never know what's coming next, and therein lies the Bourbonista charm. 

A glittering rhinestone in the rough, be sure to get your weekly recommended dose of divine wisdom from The Bourbonista Blog. Just don't fuck with her house while she's at the lake. The housesitter has done time for murder and would do so again under the right circumstances (the cats love him and he's really tidy). 

Get your bourbon on the rocks ready, here's the direct link to your darling Bourbonista. Refreshing! 
http://thebourbonista.com/index.html

Stay tuned to hear more from The Bourbonista - she will eventually drop a guest blog down for you here, when you least expect it. With glitter confetti and girly cocktails on the side. As always, feel free to email CaptainSexKitten@gmail.com. Tell me about your best friend's blog! xo 


 

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Slut Pride

The first time somebody called me a slut, it had nothing to do with sex. This was not somebody I had ever met, much less considered having sex with. I was in high school. I stood up at some sort of board meeting and voiced my opinion, with confident sweet sixteen aplomb, that sexual education was important in schools. I said that teenagers deserved to have access to information that would make a difference in their health and well-being, that sex was not a horrible awful thing, and thanked the adults in my life who helped provide me with guidance and support. Afterwards, a man approached me outside where I was standing with a friend. He narrowed his eyes and said: "So, do your parents know that you're already a little slut?" He spit on the ground next to our feet and walked away. Hateful and sad. 

I also experienced slut-shaming prejudice from peers in high school. I noted the irony of being called a "slut" by a guy I had refused to go on a date with. The irony caught up with him hard by way of a sucker punch to the gut when he had the nerve to call me a slut again in the parking lot after a football game. Also, he should have known better than to enrage my crew - stoners, math wizards, band geeks, and art freaks are the true masters of creatively crafty paybacks.

Then along came Kathleen Hanna. The stunning lead singer of Bikini-Kill wrote "Slut" on her belly in bold black letters. Pissed off by the loud aggressive, testosterone fueled jerky ass dudes beating each other senseless in the mosh pit, she took back SLUT. Also, CUNT, DYKE, WHORE, and a handful of other "dirty" words, scrawled all over her body with a sharpie. She cut through the violence and aggression with words and energy and inspired a movement (Riot Grrl) that united young punky chicks everywhere. Strength in numbers. Fighting fire with fire. Challenging people to look, to deal with it. I liked her style. Hanna said: "I felt that if I wrote slut or whore or incest victim on my stomach, then I wouldn't just be silent...." And together we reveled in it. Whatever it was - our angst, our pain, our rock n' roll, our dignity, our pride, our sexuality, our self-expression.

Like everything after high school, things continue to get better and brighter. There's an exquisiteness to hearing "the S word" spoken with love and affection, rolling off the lips of a dazzled lover - "There's my beautiful little slut..." he says, twisting my nipples and nibbling my earlobe, enjoying the way I feel, taste, look, and respond to his sweet touch. Hell yeah, I'm a slut. So what?! I love healthy, happy sex. I'm sexy and proud, bitches. I'm GGG (Good/Game/Giving - in Savage lexicon). I like responsible, safe, honest to goodness fucking. I like giving and getting pleasure and passion. In the words of the indomitable Margaret Cho : "...And so I wondered, am I gay or am I straight?! And then I realized, I'm just slutty!!! Where's my parade? What about slut pride?!" Word. 

Margaret Cho fabulousity:

Monday, August 13, 2012

Poly-wood Vacation Home

I don't know if I'm really polyamorous or not. The jury's still out. I've been voted on and off and back onto this island a few times. Usually by sexy couples that want to play with me, which is great once in a while. But it's important that they realize I'm not interested in moving into their house and becoming part of a "fluid bonded triad," or being their forever girlfriend. Yes, negotiating the physical and emotional boundaries of polyamory can be tricky. Poly-wood is a nice place to visit, but do I really want to live there? For now I'll just maintain the summer home.

Everyone needs to feel comfortable for a good time to be had by all, and safe sex is always a priority, so sometimes that takes a bit of discussion. That's cool. However, sometimes this takes a fucking TON of discussion. By the time there's a contract on the table complete with details like "oral sex is fine, but absolutely no anal," the allure of the spontaneous, combustible affair can be squashed out before it began. I'm already out dancing, making come hither eyes at Mr. "Tall Dark and Handsome and Hopefully Not Married." Game over. Feel free to psychoanalyze that. Whatever. Let me know if you have any brilliant insights that will cause me to become instantly more enlightened. 

I think it's perfectly fine and wonderful for people to love however many people they want to in whatever way they like. I'm down with the idea that loving somebody completely does not prevent you from loving somebody else too. Poly people like to say stuff like this: "So, who do you love more, your dad or your mom?" Hoping that you'll be like "Uhh, I love them both the same!!!!" In fact, they get non-plussed if the answer is clearly "MOM" or "POPS" with no gray area whatsoever. It ruins their moment. It also makes for awkward philosophical discussion on this, because really who wants to talk about mom and dad in the course of figuring out who to fuck (or love, as the case may be)?!

Poly people also really like potlucks. They show up with the whole family, party down, get to know each other, see who wants to swap wives. No big deal. Except when it is. There's always got to be at least one person who's big on the politics. The chairwoman of the board, if you will. She wants to know who is married and who's fucking whom and keeps track of everyone. She's like Gladys Kravitz, she's more familiar with your business than you are and will spend at least an hour explaining everything to you. She will ask you awkward questions and look at you sideways. Apparently a single girl at one of her officially sanctioned poly picnics is like a coyote in the chicken coop. Just eat the ambrosia salad and refrain from giving anybody's husband a blowjob while formulating your exit strategy.  

As you can see, this shit is complicated. Love anybody you want to. Be respectful, honest, and safe. Have a fuckton of fun. Why not?! Will I occasionally play with a guy who is happily married, but in an open relationship? Yes. Will I move into a compound and be somebody's fifth wife? No. Am I really polyamorous or not? It depends on who you ask. I don't even know. The jury's still out.

And now, here's some more "Shit Poly People Say":




As always, feel free to email CaptainSexKitten@gmail.com with your questions, comments, psychoanalysis, and two cents. 

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Tips from the Kissing Booth

Kissing is way important, folks. You can tell a lot about somebody by the way they kiss. Having earned my reputation as a "make-out bandit" fair and square, I've had the pleasure of puckering up to some pretty great partners in the kissing booth. I haven't put up with the awkwardness of a face-eating, spit dripping, tongue chewing kissing session since high school. Life's too short for bad kissing, people. So I'll let you in on a few choice tips that are sure to please if you play your cards well.

1. Find the right moment...  
Everyone is nervous before kissing somebody new, that's natural. You're probably thinking about it beforehand, especially if you're having a great time together. Don't let it build up too much, the right moment will surface. Walking in the park at sunset? Standing outside looking at the full moon? Dropping your date off on the front porch? You look over and you'll just know when it's happening. Relax. Let it be sweet. Sounds cliche? That's because cliches are a guaranteed comfort zone for most people. Starting in the comfort zone is a guaranteed win for one and all. 

2. Be aware of your partner...
Good kissing is about sensing the person next to you. You're kissing them because you like something about them. Maybe it's personality, a smile, a sparkle in the eye. Maybe it's the fact that their ass looks fucking fantastic in those shiny red hotpants. It doesn't matter how you're drawn to this person, but something about them makes your bottom lip quiver. Every kiss is like alchemy - it's all about how your lips and energy mingle. Be aware of your partner's touch, the way they move, the breath. When you're sensitive to the other person, you'll figure out what feels good (and what doesn't for that matter) right quick. Find that out, and then do more of it. Success. 

3. Come up for air....
If you're one of the "face-eaters," this is where you go wrong. After finding the right moment, leaning in for the kiss, making contact, and feeling the connection with the other person, don't get so excited about cramming your tongue down somebody's throat that you lose the entire connection. Let the kiss take it's course, then back up for a moment and check back in. Is the object of your desire looking up at you in wide starry-eyed wonder? Then do it again! Is she wiping the slobber off her chin and backing away? It's OK. Sometimes the chemistry really isn't there. You tried. Now stop trying and leave that one alone. 

Practice makes perfect, right? Remember, intuition matters way more than experience. Feel it out. May the force be with you. MWAH!!!! xoxoxo

What makes kissing "good" or "bad"???? Discuss. Post a comment OR Email CaptainSexKitten@gmail.com with your two cents. xo



Monday, August 6, 2012

Breakin' Up (Mix Tape!)

This is your Captain speaking. We're about to hit some turbulance, but just hold fast. The crash landing is coming, but yes, this too shall pass. 

Break ups are awkward. There's no way around it. Usually, if you're the one having to start the conversation, it weighs heavily on your shoulders. You don't want to hurt the other person, but you've gotta say stuff you think they don't want to hear. Usually, if you're the one about to get dumped, you can feel the "It's not you, it's me" coming on, like the breeze when the clouds roll in before a storm. Whether it's an epic DTMFA ("dump the mother-fucker already!") break up, an amicable "yeah, we're better off as friends" conversation across the kitchen table, or you just got told that "this ain't gonna work out" - here's a playlist to fall into while you're falling out of love. Pick up the pieces, dust 'em off, and move right along little doggys. Captain Sex Kitten loves you. 

Captain's Greatest Break Up Tunes:

1. Hey Boy - by the Blow 
2. 24 Hours - by the Noisettes
3. It'll Feel Good When It Quits Hurtin' - Loretta Lynn
4. So Sad About Us - The Jam 
5. Walk It Off - The Breeders 
6. Shut Up and Let Me Go - The Ting Tings 
7. Get Over It - OK GO
8. You Ain't No Big Thing Baby - Holly Golightly
9. No Need to Cry - Neko Case 
10. Just Ain't Gonna Work Out - Mayer Hawthorne  
11. The Angels Hung Around - Rilo Kiley
12. Tears for Affairs - Camera Obscura
13. In The Summer's When You Really Know - Jets to Brazil 

Here's a link to this playlist on Grooveshark. Rock out with your chin up. 



Breakin' UP by Captain Sex Kitten on Grooveshark